


Spellbound

by markofthemoros



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Psychological Horror, Spells & Enchantments, Supernatural Elements, Tarot, Werewolves, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-12-14 01:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11772246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros
Summary: What seemed like a chance meeting at first, turns out to be so much more as Gladio is left to wrestle with a curse, one that threatens to undo him as a man. // Based on the side quest "The Witch of the Woods". Witchcraft. Tarot reading. Werewolves. Some gore. Psychological horror elements.





	1. Missing

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Sigh. And here I thought that after 'Tool', I'd be done with chapter stories for a while. Well, guess not! Here's another one, this time focusing on Gladio. 'Cause I realized I've kinda neglected Gladio since 'Collision', and it's high time he gets to shine a little more. So buckle up, guys, 'cause this is gonna be another fun ride!
> 
> Beta read again by Elillierose.

The hot air distorted the world into wavy blurs of sandy tones and an illusion of a dream; the faint breeze carried along the stench of sulfur and sweat, the warmness whisking against their faces hardly doing much to alleviate the heaviness of it. Running a hand through his hair, Noctis sighed out a loud, irritated breath. "Isn't it rude to make people wait for you? Especially when they've been the ones telling us to come to see them."

"Hrmph. You're one to talk." Sitting on the stool next to him, leaning his elbows onto the table, Gladio smirked openly at the prince, who had raised an eyebrow. "Seeing as we're more often than not the ones waiting for you." Noctis visibly rolled his eyes.

"Getting up at a ridiculous time in the morning wasn't my idea," he drawled, stretching his arms above his head to work out some kinks left by the long sit in the car.

"Well, if it were up to you, Noct," the adviser cut in, his voice pure tease as he held his drink up in a mock salute, "us getting up in the morning at all would be unlikely." Noctis shot a dirty glare at them both.

"Honestly, though," Prompto chirped, trying to break the darkening mood. "It's not like Dave to bail out like this. You guys think he's alright?" he tossed out lightly; the happy-go-lucky tone was accentuated by the blond balancing his stool precariously only on hind legs as he held onto the table for stability.

"Can you cut it out? We don't need you breakin' anything," Gladio motioned for the blond to sit properly.

"How 'bout a little faith in me, big guy? I got this," Prompto grinned smugly, but sat down soon anyway as the shield gave him a warning look. "Alright, already!" he grumbled.

Scoffing lazily at the annoyance on the gunner's face, Noctis shook his head, "So what now?" His expectant gaze moved back to Ignis.

The brunet took a moment. "It certainly raises suspicion that Mr. Auburnbrie isn't around despite his invite. Nevertheless, we shouldn't jump to any conclusions as of yet. Perhaps he's been… delayed," Ignis offered, his middle finger gently pushing the glasses up his nose.

"Iggy's right," Gladio nodded, lifting his chest to cross his arms over it. "Maybe something came up that required his attention more than us."

"Yeah…"

"So, what should we do?" the sky-blue went from Noctis to the adviser.

"I guess we'll wait," Noctis shrugged as he leaned his elbow onto the table and turned to gaze idly at the horizon. A steady string of smoke rose from the volcano, and Noctis could have sworn it seemed thicker and darker than just a few hours ago. The smell of sulfur in the air seemed somehow stronger, too. He thought he'd gotten used to it by now, but…

"'S'cuse me…"

Noctis' attention was slowly turned to the new presence; to meet the small bow of the restaurant owner, standing a polite step from their table, his old back a little hunched over but eyes sharp and… holding something that raised his curiosity. "Yes?"

"Not my intention to eavesdrop or anythin', boys, but ya know, we get so seldom visitors…" the man started babbling; Noctis took a breath.

"Yeah?"

"'S just that, I heard ya talkin' 'bout an Auburnbrie… A Dave Auburnbrie?"

The intense blue orbs were alert in an instant, as was his table company. "Yeah, that's him! You know him?"

A self-satisfied smirk flashed across the older man's face. "I know the hunters' folk from ways back, kid." The look was gone, though, as his voice darkened with seriousness, and he asked, "Y'all were supposed to meet here, weren't ya?"

"Yeah. Do you know where he is?"

The sad smile rose over his face. "'M afraid Dave's gotten himself into trouble. 'Was seen sprintin' into the thicket in Malmalam not two days ago. It's off-limits, boys. Strictly forbidden to a hunter to take a single step into that thicket unless it's a dire emergency. Not a word from him since."

"Malmalam…" Noctis mulled the information over.

"A rough place, I hear. I, uh, I'd hate to tell ya boys the bad news, but…" the man trailed off awkwardly, averting his eyes.

"Not at all," Ignis nodded at him a little. "Thank you for letting us know."

"Yeah. We'll take it from here," Noctis flashed the man what he hoped was a reassuring smirk.

The mixed look of shock and hope on the other's face mirrored it poorly. "Would y'all really? Thank you. In case he's still around…"

"Sure. It's not like us to leave a man hanging," Noctis brushed it off, looking smug as he took a few good gulps of his drink.

"Besides," Gladio said as he made a move to get up, "Dave wanted to tell us something, right? If he's run into trouble, we've gotta help him."

"What're we waitin' for?" Prompto sounded eager as he hopped onto his feet, sticking a thumb over his shoulder to point at the Regalia parked on the other side of the road. "The call of danger, a guy in need of rescue – who's not excited?!"

Noctis laughed a little, "Usually, you wouldn't be. Who're you and what've you done to Dopeface?"

"Aw. Give me a break, Noct! Man can hope."

"Let's just hope we'll find what we're looking for," the oldest shook his head.

The shopkeeper looked like he couldn't believe his luck as the younger men got up to leave. As the bespectacled one pulled out a pouch, the man just rose his hands in refusal. "And those, boys," he motioned towards the empty glasses on the table, "Those are on the house."

* * *

"So where is this Mal… Malaniam… this place anyway?" the blond almost moaned wearily. He was leaning against the door, arms folded to cushion his head as he gazed idly at the too slowly changing landscape.

"Malmalam," Ignis corrected. "Unfortunately, it is quite a ride. I'm afraid we'll have to spend the night somewhere and continue in the morning. It'd be way past midnight before we reached the rest area, even if we pushed through without taking any breaks." A sound of displeasure sounded from the backseat, and the emerald flicked to look at Noctis. The raven's stare was intense as he fixed it onto the mirror like it would bore through. "A Gil for your thoughts, Noct?"

"Can't we just get there and camp? There's a guy who needs help."

"Darn my life 'cause now I wish I had a recorder. Can you run that first part by me again?" Gladio chuckled. Noctis gave him a look that said, 'I'm not laughing'. On the front seat, the driver sighed.

"…I suppose that can be arranged." He sounded tired, though, as if the mere thought of the long drive was taking its toll on him already.

"Ignis?"

Forcing a reassuring look, the man nodded, "It'll be fine. You're right, Noct; there's potentially a man down, so we shouldn't waste any time."

"Don't push it, Specs. If you need to change to the back, just say so," Noctis shook his head before averting his eyes to the landscape, missing the fractural widening of his adviser's pair, and the brief, content smile that graced his lips. Truly, the prince wasn't phased by the front he was putting up. He knew the man better than that.

"Perhaps that can be arranged, too," Ignis said lowly, more to himself, but the agreeing hum coming from the backseat told him it had been heard.

A comfortable silence settled over them for a while. With a content sigh, Gladio fished out his book and was engrossed in a matter of moments; something the younger men had already beat him to. Lost in thought, Noctis gazed idly outside, looking distant, while Prompto scrolled through something in his phone, an occasional amused snort or a sound of contemplation coming from him. Ignis had put on some quiet piano music, and was resting his elbow onto the door, steering one-handedly. The free hand was tracing the curves and bumps of the interior décor, running over the smooth metal, transitioning onto rougher leather… The feeling under his fingers was soothing, something to do with his hands to offer some variety into the monotone of driving.

It was Prompto who broke the silence. "What's the big deal about Dave heading into the woods?" he tossed out casually, as if the words had just rolled from his tongue without a thought. Then, as if he'd remembered something important, he turned to look at the brunet and asked, "Do you really need permission?"

Looking like he had just snapped out of something, Ignis glanced at him before turning his attention back to the road and pushing his glasses up like it was a second nature. "Can't say I've heard anything to that effect." He couldn't tell if the sound the blond made was one of approval or disapproval, but before he could make a comment about that, the shield cut in,

"But it is strange the guy's gone missing without a trace."

"Agreed. Although I'd never doubt his skill, I must admit I do find his silence concerning."

"All the more reason for us to hurry it up, then."

The sun turned to set as the barren landscape of Ravatoghan rock and rubble slowly changed into the lush and vibrant riverbed of Hulldagh Pike. It was still hot, more humid than anything, really, but the pressing weight of the air was eased a little by the crispness of flowing water and floral scents. It was beautiful, the way the setting sun flickered on the white waters or filtered through the trees. Noctis had changed to drive, releasing a surprisingly willing Ignis to stretch his limbs a little in what little room the backseat provided. The sky was darkening, the first stars lighting up. Looking excited, Prompto did his best to get a few nice shots of the gradient layered above them, but every time he thought he was onto something, a curve in the road or a tree branch blocking the view threw him off his groove. With a disappointed groan, the man sunk back into his seat to sulk a little as darkness chased away the last rays of day, enveloping the world in shadows and starlight.

The dusk had matured into full-bodied night by the time they reached Maidenwater. Noctis almost missed their turn, resulting into less than enjoyable brake-screeching Ignis would have a talk with him about later. "Sorry, fellas," was muttered under his breath.

"Ugh, just to let you know, Noct, I wasn't planning on dying on this trip," Prompto grumbled as he settled back into his seat.

"Yeah, Noct. How 'bout paying attention if you're the one driving?" Gladio scolded him, massaging his abused neck.

"I said 'sorry'," Noctis muttered; then he saw something long-awaited glistening in the distance: the ethereal glimmer of a haven. "We're here."

"Finally," Gladio grumbled under his breath as he stretched his arms above his head; a series of knacks and pops resulted, along with a held gasp of relief. Seven hours straight; even for them, that was pushing it. "Let's make camp and call it a day."

"But–," Noctis started, looking like he was already heading out towards the forest line.

"Noct," his shield grabbed a hold of his arm and fixed him with a stern stare, "Listen to me. Rushing into that thicket in the middle of the night isn't gonna do anyone of us any good. Even if Dave's still out there… Well, we don't need anyone else getting lost or injured." Gladio looked somehow pained behind the resilient look, and Noctis understood he hated having to say what he did. Was the thicket really that bad? Were they really forced to wait for daybreak?

"Fine," he yanked his arm free. "But we're heading out at first light."

"And we will, but right now, wanna help? How 'bout helping Iggy?" He jerked his thumb into the brunet's a direction, who was putting up a fire. The blue eyes flicked between the man and the amber, until Noctis shook his head in clear surrender and jogged over.

"Anything that I can do?" Prompto sounded enthusiastic, something so rare it made him blink. Grasping his chance before it'd slip, though, he smirked and nodded towards the trunk.

"How 'bout you help me with the tent this time?" He didn't bother hiding his lips stretching wider at Prompto's falling face.

"Anything but that?" he tried, wincing.

"I don't think so. What, were you expecting me to tell you to get busy taking pictures?" he teased.

"That would be of my own volition," the blond sighed and shook his head.

"Less talkin', more workin'. Let's just get this done so we can get some eats," the survivalist didn't look at him as he went to dig into the trunk for their camping supplies.

"You said it, big guy."

Ignis was done with dinner - local mushrooms cooked with freshly caught fish, a courtesy of Noct's - by the time they had managed to get the tent up. It was close to 1:30, and not much was said as everyone more or less gobbled up their meals, eager to be ready to hit the bunk.

They'd head out at daybreak.

* * *

"Rise and shine," Ignis smirked as he pulled the tent curtain all the way open, the brightness of the radiant dawn flooding the small space instantly. It took a moment, but soon a cacophony of protesting groans and less than polite ways to tell the other to get out of their face sounded from the inside as the remaining occupants tried to escape the assault on their vision under the protection of their pillows. "Let us get on the move," he held a small pause, his eyes twinkling at the disheveled look his young liege was presenting, "First light, as per royal orders." The look Noctis gave him said, 'You're fired'.

Gladio wiped a hand over his face before dragging it through his mane and gripping it a little, tingling sensations dancing over his scalp. From the halfpoint, he brought his arms above his head to stretch away the remains of sleep. "That's right, guys. Get up. Let's move." That notion seemed to ring some bells, since the two half-awake young men seemed to perk up as they started to fumble around for their clothes.

It was just past 6 am when they headed out towards the treeline that marked the edge of the thicket. Morning light glimmered invitingly on the river bends, and a breeze ruffled the leaves gently, but not enough to chill. Gladiolus held his eyes closed as he drew in the scent of the evaporating dew mixing with the faint aroma of an approaching thunderstorm. His shirt already stuck to his skin a little; the night hadn't done much to drop the humidity. "Gonna be a hot day," he tossed out, not really caring if anyone caught that or not.

One could say it was a gift. To Gladiolus, it was just something he knew inherently. It was the way the hair in the back of his neck stood. If anyone had asked, he couldn't explain it but it was just this feeling he got. It was something about the air on mornings like these, something in the back of his head telling him to stay sharp.

He had a bad feeling about this.

It was something about those woods, he told himself. Something that beckoned him to not let his guard down. He was already preparing to have to face the bad news; maybe they were too late. Maybe they would find a mangled corpse, if even that. His brows furrowed a little; it wasn't unheard of for him to be mistaken, but more often than not Gladiolus had learned to trust his instincts. They'd brought him this far. But, he sighed as he strolled after the others, this time he truly wished he was wrong.

* * *

**AN2: Yeah, it starts a little slow this time. But it'll get there. Calm before the storm, as they say.**


	2. Omen

'It should have been named Malmalam Parkway,' Gladio thought as they made their way up the snaking path – not overgrown vegetation, not even a tedious trek trail, a path. Hell, a road. Gravel and compressed earth, man-made, not naturally stomped. "Well, I say we got off easy this time," he chuckled as they jogged along it with an easy pace.

"Perhaps," Ignis replied, but Gladio could tell he meant it only partially.

"What's up, Iggy?"

The adviser didn't reply immediately. "I can't shake the feeling we're let off too easy." The glance he gave at Gladio spoke volumes of what the man meant; the shield hummed in agreement.

"Same. Almost feels like we'd be led along."

"Exactly."

"Uhm, led along by whom exactly?" Prompto asked a bit nervously. "We're looking for a guy, right?"

"Not anymore," Noctis spoke before anyone had a chance to, sounding half-relieved, half-disbelieving as his eyes squinted a little at the person they'd come for.

His back to them, facing uphill, Dave's weight shifted impatiently from one leg to the other as he kept his undying attention on something in the distance. His arms were crossed over his chest tightly, his appearance strained. "Hey, Dave!" Noctis called before breaking into a jog. The said man visibly jerked, an arm flailing to smack away an invisible enemy as he spun around to the direction of the voice. Even from afar, a brief look of surprised fright crossed over his features. "Dave?" the raven begun, the man's rash response having tipped him into treading a bit more carefully.

A cavalcade of emotions visited the seasoned hunter's face – confusion, then recognition, eventually what could have been hope – before settling into guarded disbelief with an edge of scolding. "What in tarnation are you boys doin' here?"

"Heard a hot tip sayin' you were in the area," Noctis spoke, stressing the last words. It seemed to soften something in the other, and Noctis could make out the gratitude in that deep voice,

"Worried about me?"

"About you braking the rules." He smirked a little at the guilty look washing over the hunter's face.

"Ah. You got me there," he refused to look embarrassed, though. "The thicket's off-limits to official Hunters 'less it's a matter of life an' death."

"So, what's the deal?"

Dave sighed a long breath, "Reckon it's too late in this case. One of our hunters headed into the woods on a rescue mission and hasn't come back."

Noctis' mouth worked before his brains did, "If you want, we could take up the search for you." He wanted to step onto his own toes at the excitement in his own voice – and the collective sounds of disbelief coming from behind him. Why did he say that? Why did he have to again and again say that?! Oh well. 'Too late to take that back now.'

Dave's mouth had stretched into a small smile of gratitude as he nodded, "Sorry for the trouble, boys. Oughta be a hut a little ways ahead. Lady there might know somethin' 'bout the hunter. I'd go myself, but regulations say collectin' tags ain't reason enough to head into the thicket," he shrugged, no-can-do-like. "I'm headin' back. Y'all be safe. Hate to lose you boys in there, too," he sighed, shaking his head. Then, with a final flick of his wrist as a goodbye, he started downhill, leaving the younger men watching his retreating back in silence.

"So," Prompto started, making a move uphill, "We're goin' or what?"

"I guess we have to," Noctis sighed, shaking his head. Dammit, why did he always agree to be the errand boy?! Shouldn't he have errand boys of his own he could send for stuff like this?! 'Oh yeah, that's right. Not anymore,' he thought a bit bitterly. "Now it's just us," he muttered to himself.

"What's that?" Gladio asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing. Uhm, let's go." His shield snorted.

"Whatever you say, Noct."

As they made their way higher – and truly, they could soon make out an aroma of smoke in the air – Gladio couldn't help a restlessness settling into his chest. An unexplainable feeling of dread, like he should have been headed exactly in the opposite direction and preferably in double-speed. He couldn't fathom the urge to stop them from advancing another step; there was nothing wrong with this place, per se. It wasn't difficult to navigate, at least not this particular part of the woods, and he wasn't too worried about wild animals, either. But there was something telling, _screaming_ at him that something was wrong. Screaming until it clicked. The silence around them made a shiver run down his spine despite the warmth of the morning.

It was too quiet.

Gulping a little, the shield focused his ears in hopes of being mistaken. But no, in addition to the sounds of boots scrunching against the gravel, occasional chatter or laughter, or erratic breaths, sounds they made, there was barely anything. No birds, no rustling of grass as something tiny moved amongst the green; even the breeze had died down. There was stillness.

It was like the entire world had held its breath before something grand was about to unfold, and they had been caught in the middle.

And then he heard a cry. From somewhere, echoed a distant howl of a wolf. Like a whisper in the air, and yet crawling down his spine as a shiver.

"Gladio?"

The amber eyes snapped to take in the unamused face of the adviser, "Did ya hear that?" The furrow of the neat brows wasn't a good sign.

"Hear what?"

"A howl. Like a wolf's," Gladio said, his brows drawing closer.

"I can't say I heard anything of sorts," Ignis sounded puzzled. "So, what do you think?"

"Huhn?" It took a moment to dawn that Ignis had asked him something and was expecting an answer. The adviser's face tightened as he read the cluelessness written all over his face.

"Were you listening at all?"

"Uhm," he let out as his gaze flicked to the ground, then back again, "Sorry, Iggy. Must've slipped."

Ignis studied him with his eyes, "I asked if you approved of us acting the part of a professional rescue team… Are you feeling quite right?"

"Erhm, yeah. Yeah, why?"

"You look..." Ignis trailed off in search of a proper word. He wasn't exactly 'pale', but rather looking like he was seasick.

"Don't worry about it," the shield brushed it off, nodding towards the distancing forms of Noct and Prompto. "Better catch up before those two get into trouble." He could tell the adviser was far from satisfied with his answer but didn't push it, and Gladio was silently grateful for it. With a dismissive shrug the brunet turned to lead them on, conveniently missing the tightening lipline and a disapproving shake of a dark head behind him.

It didn't take much longer to find the place. "Check this out," came Noctis' sardonic voice from ahead, and the raven motioned towards something. On the side of the path stood a sign that read, NO HUNTERS ALLOWED.

"Well, someone's not a people person," the shield chuckled. Noctis just shrugged.

"Let's go find out what she knows."

A hut was the right word for it. Looking like it could come down if someone sneezed towards it a little too roughly, the time-worn shack stood almost despairingly on a small clearing amongst the tall trees and thickening growth. On the front yard ambled a small form, hunched over some flower pots. As the strolling steps got within a hearing distance, the form straightened up - slowly, purposefully. And despite her isolation, without a single trace of surprise in her demeanor. Like she had been expecting for company, although in his wildest dreams, Gladio couldn't imagine whom the woman could possibly have been expecting if hunters were prohibited from coming here; did other people seriously visit the woods? It was unlikely.

The lady was an elderly, he noted, the dark brows rising a little. Taking in his surroundings, he was left wondering how a woman of her age managed alone in the woods. Someone had to visit her, there was no way she was adept for the land labor. The woman smiled at them brightly as they strolled onto the yard. "Welcome, dears. To visit old Kimya, what brings such young men?" her eyes shone with the smile she greeted them with.

"Just searching for a tag," Noctis replied, glancing around curiously. The woman nodded in understanding, her smile saddening.

"Belong to a fallen hunter, it did, yes? Deep in the woods, it lies. Sent here by their leader, you were?"

"More or less. How come the hunters aren't allowed here, anyway?" the raven shrugged.

"Because of strong enmity towards me, they bear. Cast me out into the forest, they did. 'A witch,' they called me."

"Wha-? A witch? You?" Noctis' eyes widened a little. The woman's eyes gleamed mischievously behind her smirk.

"Believe them, do you? Then explain, I will. But first, search for that which is lost, you must. Here, I'll wait."

"Well, can't you just-" he begun, but the lady rose her hand to silence him, and shook her head.

"Finding what you seek, come first, that does. Peace it will bring, to his comrades, to learn what became of him. Later, we'll talk."

"A-holright, if you insist," he muttered under his breath as he turned to leave, the others following closely but sparing quizzical glances in the direction of their new acquaintance.

"Isn't it weird they'd just throw her out like that?" Prompto sounded irritated. "I mean look at her! Does she look like a spawn of evil to you guys?"

"Yeah, doesn't exactly strike as a threat to me," the shield nodded. "I'm amazed someone of her age lives out here on her own. Would do her good to get back to people." It wasn't a lie. But he left unvoiced the persistent nagging in the back of his mind, repeating and repeating the need to get out of here. He didn't want to admit it, but something about this place was creeping him out. He wasn't fond of abandoning people to danger, and this forest hid one unlike any he had ever known.

"We aren't exactly in possession of the knowledge of what has transpired," Ignis reminded them, fixing his glasses authoritatively. But at the faces they made, he lowered his chin and added, "Nevertheless, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to propose a change for her predicament."

"What they're doing, that's not right," the shield declared in a tone that left little room for disagreement. "No-one should be made to live like that against their will."

They ought to know.

As they made way, the greying landmark slowly disappeared behind branches, concealing its solitary occupant into the shrouds.


	3. The Strength, the Fool, the Sun and the Chariot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Yeas! This is it, guys, this and the next chapter are the ones I've really looked forward to get to write. Haha, they're pretty much the reason this story exists: because I really, really wanted to get to write a tarot reading session. And later, some shamanistic, pagan-y depiction of witchcraft that has nothing to do with Harry Potter. Much as I love HP. :D
> 
> To clarify, I do tarot reading irl, and I used my own deck as inspiration for the visuals. Its name is the Gilded Tarot by Ciro Marchetti, in case someone is interested in looking up the designs; they can be all found on Google image search.
> 
> If you're curious, my inspirational song for this piece is "I Don't Speak Human" by Omnia. Music is my greatest inspiration, usually, and if you want, check that out. It's on Youtube. It's not necessary, but I think it's nice and kinda sets the right mood. :)
> 
> I hope you like it!
> 
> And missed the credits in the previous chapter but beta read by Elillierose.

Finding the tag wasn't the issue.

It was taking down the thing that had apparently been the end of its owner.

"Prompto! Take cover!" the shield roared as he leaped to swing his blade at the mountainous creature's legs; he didn't miss by much, but still enough for it to retaliate by swinging its tail at him with the force of a megaton hammer. Raising his weapon in the nick of time, the blade took most of the damage, but the man was sent staggering backwards by the immense blast slamming against his defenses.

"No need to tell me twice, man!"

"What the hell is this thing?!" Noctis swore loudly as he reappeared by his shield in a flash of blue, a fresh gush of blood now trickling down the side of its neck where he had slashed it at.

"I dunno. But I'm not planning on wasting time looking that up," he grunted back, quickly checking him over for injuries. "Prompto! Now!" A barrage of shots sounded from somewhere in the rear, immediately followed by an enraged roar as the dinosaur-like creature's attention was drawn to the gunner, and it took a couple of stalky steps closer to its prey. Not wasting a second, the men nodded to each other in silent agreement – and sprung into action.

Forming a ladder with his hands, Gladiolus waited to feel the familiar weight of the prince on his arms; the low grunt was his cue, and accompanied by a roar, he flung the raven to soar in the air, a high somersault.

Twisting his abs and swinging his arm around to create the momentum, Noctis dismissed his sword. Turning in mid-jump, the spear materialized, the new weight stopping him before he could over-rotate. As he already felt the pull of the ground gaining the upper hand, he glanced towards the other just in time to note how Gladio had poised his blade over his shoulder, ready to bring it down.

The animal screeched in rage and agony as the men drove their steel into its leg in one controlled, joint attack, Noctis tearing into the muscles of its joint, and if the crunching sound under Gladio's heavy sword was any indication, the man had crushed bones. It wobbled a little, the roars turning more whining, before collapsing on its injured leg, the ground shaking under its weight.

"Ignis!"

Noctis needed to say no more; way ahead of him, having observed keenly from the frontal side of the beast, in the moment of its distraction, the adviser leaped forward and thrust his spear into its exposed throat, a flash like lightning and some crackles dancing along the weapon as it sunk into the scaled skin. Its cries pierced their ears; thrashing issued as the wounded animal panicked, pain and the stench of gore setting its instincts into overdrive.

Ignis flipped backwards nimbly like a cloud, his daggers already out in hand as he stood back up. "Now is our chance!" he yelled over the screeching and the thumping sounds as the beast stomped the ground to get back up.

"Now!" Already rushing, Noctis called out his own heavy sword, nearly a triple weight in comparison to the engine blade making him sag under it a little. Ignoring the sting, the young man forced it up, nonetheless. From somewhere close came another round of gunfire, and in the corner of his eye, he could see the greatsword being raised. The animal thrashed pitifully, swishing its humongous tail in an attempt to squash them like bugs; it tried to snap them into its jaws, but couldn't reach. Prompto's yelp of alert sounded from his blind side, but Noctis didn't have time to pay more attention. He hadn't sounded pained, merely surprised anyway. Totally focused on the task at hand, he called, "Let's put it out its misery!"

The blood hit his face as his sword sunk into the flesh, the tissue tearing apart with the force of the blow. Next to him, Gladio's behemoth blade did even more damage, finding its home in the softer belly. Pieces of flesh and scaly leather clung into the spikes of it as it raked through.

"Gentlemen!" came Ignis' urgent tone. "Get out of the way!"

The intense blue snapped into the direction of the adviser just in time to see him hold his daggers crossed in front of him with the tips touching, before he felt an abrupt, strong jerk in his middle. Gladio's voice was mere grunts; if he said something, Noctis didn't catch it, but he didn't fight the motion. Waiting for the shield to release him, his blade was dismissed as his frantic eyes instinctively searched for Prompto, and as they spotted the distancing blond mass of hair, a small breath of relief left him unguarded, before his awaiting eyes were back on Ignis.

Looking like a statue, the man stood still, a focused look on his face as he conjured; the air around him flickered with the ethereal heat building from the inside. Then, the green eyes snapped towards the target, and grinding the edges against each other like flint to steel to get the spark, a fire that didn't burn him combusted on his daggers. Not wasting a second, the cries of the dying animal in his ears, Ignis dashed. Never ceasing his motion, he flung the flaming blades to the carcass, right, left, before leaping out of the way as the holy flames fulminated around him.

Landing into a crouch, the adviser was left panting as he observed how the flare engulfed everything, the sounds of combustion drowning out everything else. He didn't straighten up before the fury of it had died down, standing a bit precariously on weak legs. He heard the running steps by his side, and at first didn't refuse Noct's hand as it came to support him. That one always left him a bit woozy, and he knew it.

"You alright, Specs?"

"Yes, Noct," he spoke under a light pant. "I'll be fine in just a moment."

"Wow," Gladio chuckled with a degree of impression. "That was quite a blast."

"Yes, I… I should hope so," the adviser smirked, wiping his brow as he motioned for Noct that it was alright to let go.

Prompto's eyes never left the now lifeless, charred remains as he strolled closer, still twirling his gun in his fingers. "Remind me to never get on your bad side, Igster," he snorted a small laugh. "Holy crap, man." A smug look crossed the adviser's face briefly before he got back in line,

"'You surprised?"

"About seeing this little boy pyromaniac side of yours? Yeah, I could say, yeah. I am. A bit."

"This beast must have been the king of the woods," Gladio mused out, changing the topic. He was crouching next to the carcass, looking thoughtful as he inspected what was left of it. It had certainly been awe-inspiring. But, Gladiolus shook his head as a sigh of frustration was finally let out. This nagging feeling he had had the entire morning; when he had first laid eyes upon this magnificent fiend, he had been sure that this was the very thing all that had been about. All that apprehension and the urge to avoid this place. Apparently, he was wrong. As the beast now lied dead in front of him, it was still there. The persistent omen that something wasn't right. Nonetheless, "I gotta say, I'm pretty happy that it's the four of us. If Dave would've come here on his own, he would have been dinner."

"Well now that you put it like that," Prompto sniped at him.

"Well, I guess we got what we came for," Noctis spoke under his breath as he stretched his arms. "Let's go back and give the hunters the news."

"It's hardly going to be a pleasant thing to hear," Ignis noted a bit solemnly.

"But it's the truth. I'm sure they'll be happier to know what became of their friend than not knowing it," the shield said. He was already making it back towards the direction they had come from, motioning for the others to follow. They did, sparing a few last glances behind as if to make sure that their opponent truly was as dead as it looked.

* * *

"Back already, are you, dears?" Kimya's smile radiated warmth as she greeted the prince with a small nod.

"Hey," Noctis scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, we… we found it."

The woman's eyes slid closed, her smile widening, "Joy it brings me, to hear that. That man, pleased shall he be…" Her voice trailed into silence like she had talked to herself, and Noctis was left feeling oddly curious. He wasn't sure if she had meant for him to even hear it. Deciding that it was probably the best to change the topic, he went ahead to prompt,

"So, are you gonna explain?"

Something in the woman's look took a cunning edge, and her eyes glinted with something other than joy. With a small smirk, she spoke, "Brew potions, I do. But very special they are."

"What kinda potions?"

"Repel the daemons, they do. At havens, they are used. The Oracle's blessing, my potions strengthen."

"Is that really why they threw you out?" he sounded incredulous as well as disbelieving; he couldn't imagine the hunters to drive anyone, especially one of their own, to live in a shack like this for such a reason.

"Understand, they didn't," she spat out, suddenly sounding bitter and angry. "'A witch', they called me. Out here, they cast me. 'To die in the wild,' they wanted to send me." She held a pause, and from the way her eyes shifted to gaze at nothing, Noctis knew that she wasn't talking to him anymore. "Long ago, healing potions, the hunters wanted. Brewed them, I did, but when more, I wanted to do, very angry, their leader grew," she hissed, the memory like salt to the wound. "'Dangerous,' my sister called me. Drive me out, she did. If ever wanted to go back, I did, under pain of death would it be."

"Wha- what did you do then?" He wasn't sure if asking was the right thing to do, but it came out anyway.

The mischievous smile was back on her face, her demeanor suddenly calm again, tenacious even. "Show you, let me. Your fortunes, the cards allow to reveal."

"Uh, cards…?"

"What, you're, like, a fortune teller or something?" Gladiolus asked, are-you-kidding-me-like.

"A fortune teller?! Like, you can tell the future 'n' stuff?!" Prompto perked up, looking at the woman with excitement and mesmerizement. "How cool is that, Noct?! Can we do this? Please?"

"Uhm…" Looking lost, the raven's eyes went from the barely-able-to-hold-himself-together Prompto to the lady. As if reading his indecisiveness, she kept persuading,

"Nothing dangerous, that I guarantee. Just, understand the ways of the spirits, my sister, does not. Thus, frightens her, this skill that blesses me. But you," she fixed him with a knowing look, "To spirits, a stranger, you are not?"

Noctis gulped, "How… do you know that?"

"A touch of the eather, you bear. A whisker of magic, there resides in you," she chuckled lightly as if it would have been obvious and he was asking silly questions. The silliness was highlighted by the quiet, surprised gasps; her smile was warm again as she took in the looks on each of their faces.

"Oh wow! She can really see that!" Prompto exclaimed.

"Hold your horses, kid," Gladio grunted, perhaps a bit more harshly than he had intended. But damn that kid and his loose mouth! He wasn't convinced of this woman's accused 'witchery', but if that was just a nifty pep-talk, Prompto had just blown all their cover.

With one more glance at Prompto, Noctis shrugged, "Well, I guess there's no harm in trying."

"Noct," Ignis cut in, stressing the name like he always did when he wanted the prince to listen to him, "We should deliver that tag, posthaste." The look on his face said what the words left lacking: 'we have no time to waste on silly superstition.'

"Aw, c'mon, Iggs! I'm sure it can wait, like, fifteen minutes," Prompto near whined. "Can't be that bad."

Noctis grinned in an amused way as he shrugged at his adviser, "Yeah, Specs. Live a little." Ignis looked like someone had pushed a bone into his throat, deep enough for him to choke on it. Swallowing his loss, he shook his head as he sighed,

"Very well… Is it going to cost us, I wonder."

Kimya's eyes slid back closed. "No payment, I require. Only your time, my compensation will be." She motioned towards the house, signaling them to come in.

The inside of the hut wasn't much more presentable than the outside. Cluttered floor-to-ceiling, the walls of the on-the-verge-of-collapsing structure seemed to be so framed with bookshelves and cupboards that Noctis found himself wondering if the entire shack was actually leaning onto those shelves for support. And on those shelves, there were a myriad of pots and jars of all shapes and sizes. Round ones, rectangular ones, square shapes. Some were see-through, and what he thought he saw in one of them – something that looked like pickled seaweeds and plums but… slimier – he wasn't sure he wanted to look into in any more detail.

Apparently, the others got the same 'don't ask, don't tell' vibe as he did, for they all eyed the small house with disdain. Even Prompto's face had fallen from the excitement into astonishment of a very different kind, and given any other situation, Noctis wouldn't have passed the chance to tease the hell out of the gunner, but as their host closed the door behind them, an eerie shudder ran down his spine. Somehow the entire mood of the woman, now that she was inside with them, had shifted slightly. Still smiling sunshine to them and her demeanor calm, but something was different. She was in her element now. Literally on her home ground. It wasn't a threatening feeling, but unnerving nonetheless, and he was beginning to question if the hunters had been wrong after all. It was clear to him that this woman was more than she let out.

She guided them to take a seat around a rectangular kitchen table. On the table sat a vase of wild flowers, and a few beautiful stones, one light pink and a couple of vibrant shades of green and blue. She went to rummage around the small space for a while, and when she came back to sit with them, she held a small, wooden box and a candelabra. For some reason, it surprised Noctis to see her light them with regular matches. For some reason, it seemed too mundane for her when she could've done so much mor–

He gave himself a mental smack; he was being ridiculous! It wasn't like he actually believed in any witchcraft or fortune telling or any of that crap; his own magic worked differently, that he knew inside out and in that he trusted. He had agreed to this merely to humor Prompto. Besides, it wasn't like the Caelum family's royal duty to maintain the Wall and conjure the Crystal's power was a secret. If she knew who he was, she would know of his bloodline's ability and would have been able to pull that bluff. That didn't make her able to predict the future. That made her a fraud. A talented, suave fraud.

But why did it still leave him feeling like he was making excuses?

Kimya opened the small box to pull out a deck of beautifully decorated cards. Prompto swallowed nervously; the sky-blue eyes flicked to his friends and to the woman before returning back to the deck she had placed face down onto the table. "Uhm, what're those?"

"Tarot cards, these are called, my dear. Once sanctified by Her Ladyship, the former Oracle Lady Sylva herself, for three decades, this deck has served me. And now," she held a pause to flash them a gentle smile, "serve you, they will, if you allow."

The men exchanged looks. Eventually Noctis spoke up, scratching his head, "So, uh, what happens now? We're just gonna… stare at it?" Under the table, Ignis slapped his shin, fixing him with a look that said, 'manners'.

Kimya either didn't notice or she didn't care; she took the deck into her hands as if it was something fragile, and started shuffling it in a casual pace. They could see small glimpses the pictures in the cards as she held them, the illustrations vibrantly colored and intricately detailed. It seemed like a beautiful set of art, if nothing else, and the way the woman held them told exactly how precious they were to her, cosmic powers or not. "Many things, the cards could tell us," she spoke again as if to herself, "if only listen, we could. Read I not the futures of the living, for that, I dare not. Rather it is, the mysteries of one's heart, that my cards unfold." She never stopped shuffling, her fingers working the cards with practiced ease, and yet with utmost respect and care.

"Deep breaths, you take," she started. "Your minds, clear. Relaxed, should you feel." Again, the men looked at each other with various degrees of suspicion and boredom, but since they had decided to do this, well, to heck with it. One by one, they all let their gazes drop, some slid their eyes closed as they breathed, in, out, in, long steady breaths, feeling their shoulders drop, the tension draining with each exhale, the rhythm of their heartbeat growing steadier.

"Now, shuffled these cards, I have. And shuffling them, I shall keep. When it feels right, to you it must matter, tell me so, and stop, I shall." The men did as they were told. Each focusing on their own breaths, their attention on anything and nothing as they let eerie calmness descend above them.

"Now," Prompto said quietly, not raising his eyes. Noctis glanced at him briefly, eyebrow raised, but when he didn't catch the look on the other's face, he returned his eyes back to his lap. Kimya, however, had ceased immediately, and nodding her understanding, she laid two topmost cards onto the table in front of the blond. Then, she resumed shuffling.

Ignis was short to follow him, Noctis half a heartbeat behind his adviser. They started talking roughly in synch, Ignis leading but barely, and they exchanged a surprised look that was washed away quickly as their attention was drawn onto the two cards set in front of them both. The backs of the cards bore a beautiful floral and ornamental patterned sun design, and the colors were truly vibrant, despite the age of the paper.

It was Gladiolus who took his time. Sitting eyes closed and shoulders slack, his face that of concentration, he drew in deep breaths of the hut's aroma. Moist but not moldy, old woodwork and dusted clutter – and herbs of all kinds, mixing into an exotic blend. It soothed his mind. And although he wasn't too fond of this – fortune telling being merely a neat trick of reading people – the woman had practically asked him to do something he knew as his second nature. Something so innate he couldn't disrespect himself by not taking this seriously. She had asked him to trust his instincts.

And those instincts told him to wait.

He didn't know for what exactly, but something told him that it wasn't the right moment yet. That he needed to wait a little more. Ignoring the others, Gladiolus kept his eyes closed, focused on taking deep breaths, listened to the sound of the cards, waited, until–

"Now." The amber eyes snapped open, looking intense. Kimya's eyebrows rose a little, but she again stopped shuffling and laid the last two cards in front of the man, and placed the rest of the deck aside. She said nothing as she let her gaze go through them all, before reaching for the pile in front of Noctis.

"Alright, me first." Her lip twitched upwards before turning the card she had dealt first. In the card, a man stood at a crossroads, each path framed by a huge, upright pole. The Two of Wands.

"Indecisiveness, there is in you," she started. "On a journey, you are, towards a goal of ambition. But unsure, you feel, about if the right one it is, this path you're on now." As each word fell from her lips, the look on his face grew more intense. Being drawn into the poetics like a moth to the flame, Noctis leaned in a little.

"Y-yeah?"

"Unsure, you are, if it is the mind or the heart, that you should follow. For on separate ways, they wish to go. But only one path, you must choose. Cannot go without the other, no mind, no heart. A same journey, the two must travel."

"Uhm, what about the other one?" he nodded towards it. Without a word, she flipped the other one over, to reveal boldly decorated carriages, fit for royalty, with two Elder Coeurls sitting at its base, and a beautiful woman riding it proudly. The Chariot. Her smile took a sadder edge,

"Fear not, for in your ambition, victorious will you turn out to be. Through confusion, through struggle, a way, you will find, to quench that doubt, and right, will you, the wrongs that have been done."

"So not that bad, I guess," Noctis chuckled as he leaned back and crossed his arms, smirking to himself.

"But hardships, there shall be. Only through struggle, is the victory achieved. Of the Chariot, such is the nature." The look on the young man's face fell a little, but he brushed it off with a shrug. Noctis had heard enough, and she nodded to him as if to say, 'that's all I can tell you', before turning to Prompto.

A jester juggling with his pole, a carefree expression on his face. The Fool.

"Heh. Suits you," Gladiolus chuckled as he elbowed the blond into his side lightly.

"Shut up!" he spat back, but his cheeks had heated a little. 'The Fool'? Seriously?

"Mock the Fool, you should not. For him, still brand-new, the world is. In the beginning of a journey, you are. Know who you are, you yet do not. Carefree you may seem, for burdened with knowledge, you yet are not." Prompto gulped, looking a little nervous.

"Wha– what kind of knowledge?" She shook her head.

"That, I cannot tell. It is you, my cards serve. Only to you, must their message matter. What means to another, I cannot say." He nodded, a heavy look over his face as he averted his gaze back to the jester's delirious expression.

"Here, shall we see…" Kimya muttered as she flipped the other card. A ferryman rowing in a moonlit night: the Six of Swords; she looked at Prompto tightly. "Run away from this knowledge, you should not. Running away, nothing, it solves. Face must you, that which you find frightening, and in darkness, learn the truth, you will."

Color had drained from his face a little as Prompto stared at the woman, his mouth cracked open a fraction. He looked like he was about to say something, his lips quivering with unvoiced words, until he snapped it shut and averted his eyes to the table. The woman looked at him with something akin to pity before closing her eyes, and with a sigh, she turned to the adviser.

Ignis said nothing as he observed how the frail hand turned over his first card. Entire cosmos was painted onto the picture, and in the center shone the Sun. One brow raising in question, he looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

"Like the Sun upholds the balance, harmony and order around you, you bring," she smiled at him, and the adviser couldn't help his lip tugging up a little. "Keeping the cogs under control, holding them together, you are." She turned the other card, and her smile was gone as she continued, "But a time there will be, when helpless, you will feel." On the table, a blindfolded and shackled woman was surrounded by a prison made of blades. The Eight of Swords. "Trapped inside your despair, not seeing a way out." The dark eyes locked with the narrowed emerald, "Then, the others, left are, to hold together you." The gasp was quiet and unguarded, and usually Ignis would have been embarrassed by it. Now captivated by the cruel image and the woman's words, he only had eyes for the piercing stare that seemed to hold onto his very soul.

Oblivious of the favor he did, Gladio came to his rescue. "What about me?" he asked a bit demandingly, crossing his arms over his chest. Kimya fixed him with a pointed look, an eyebrow raising at the silent challenge the brute was presenting her. Without a word, she went to flip over the first card, revealing a knight riding a stallion, powerful bright-red flags and caparisons festively draped over the figure and his steed: the Knight of Wands. The amber set visited the image briefly, before rising back to meet the lady's; it seemed like the woman had never averted her gaze at all as it bore into him. Neither of them said a word, a silent confrontation neither one was willing to lose. Then, from somewhere, Gladiolus heard something that made his heart skip a beat; there that was again, that chilling howl coming from nowhere that raked down his spine in cold tingles. The amber eyes widened a little; an involuntary breath was drawn; his eyes never left the woman's.

The rising tension didn't pass unnoticed by the others, and they exchanged baffled looks at the unusual vehemence in the shield's demeanor. It took a moment for the man to gather his bearings, a deep-rooted unease in his heart. "So," Gladio started, a sting in his tone, "what's that supposed to mean?" On the other side of the table, Ignis coughed meaningfully. Whatever it was that Gladio was on about, there was no need for it. He was being disrespectful, something very unlike him, and it was high time he cut it out. He was ways down the path of making an ass of himself, and childish sulking like that didn't suit him.

Kimya's eyes narrowed a fraction, and an edge mirroring that of the other's was present on her tongue, "In your passion, triumphant you have been. Great pride in it, you take. Unwavering, is your calling. Is it the glory you seek, or the satisfaction? Burns brightly, the flame of your desire, and this destiny of yours, with all your being for it, you reach."

"Yeah?" The dark brows rose in underimpression, hiding the growing disturbance he felt inside. The hairs on the back of his neck stood, a cold shiver tickling his spine.

Looking like she was about to smack a bitch up, Kimya's eyes never left the man as she revealed the last card. It took a moment for the beautiful woman and the courageous-looking lion to take proper shape on the upside-down paper; the reversed Strength. Gladio's lips twitched at the initial impression, an involuntary sound of displeasure leaving him before the amber met the grey again. "Strength, you possess, but enough, it is not," she spoke mercilessly. "Trust in yourself, you cannot. Weak yet, you are." A gasp was drawn at those words sinking into him like a hot knife to butter. In a flash, the memory was back – the kiss of a blade pressed against his throat, the feeling of helplessness and inadequacy as the enemy had closed the distance between himself and Noct…

Strong palms slammed against the table heavily. "Bullshit!" he snarled.

"Gladio…" Prompto slipped out incredulously. The sky eyes darted to the others, reading the same surprise on their faces.

"Gladio, calm down," Ignis spoke lowly, but the said man paid him no heed. His eyes were locked onto the woman, blazing and narrow.

"You don't know that," he hissed behind clenched teeth. The woman wasn't phased. Holding the furious gaze without even a blink, her voice like a whip, she spoke,

"Admit the truth, you do not?"

"Like hell, I do! That's…!" he trailed off suddenly, the words lost to him. The taste of acid rose onto his tongue, for a reason he hated to admit, even to himself: any word of denial he would have given her would have been a lie.

The shield had sprung onto his feet, leaning over the table to glare daggers at the woman, who sat quietly as if nothing had happened. "True strength, you desire, and yet fearful you are. Being afraid of not reaching what you seek, that is what binds you," the words fell from her tongue like an odd sermon; the large jaws grit, lips pulling back to show teeth. His fists had clenched, tremors running up and down his arm.

"Gladio–" Prompto reached a hand for the shield's shoulder, but it was swept aside with stinging force. With no more than a glance towards the shocked look of the gunner, he shot one last glare at the woman – 'a witch,' he corrected in his mind, in every sense of the word – before stomping out of the small hut, leaving behind shocked expressions and a confused silence.

* * *

**AN2: Ooooh boy, Gladio, you are in so much trouble! You're just about to find out exactly in how much.**

**In case it strikes as odd, I just wanna point out that irl, I would never, and I mean never perform a group reading like the one I described here! I mean, never. It wouldn't work the way I wanted. But here, I decided to go with that for the sake of avoiding dragging it on and writing repetitive stuff for them all to have private readings. I debated writing out just Gladio's, too, but then I felt like I wanted to say something to all of them, so I decided to go unorthodox and do a group session, lol. I hope it doesn't throw you off too much, but I know it probably sounds stupid to anyone who happens to do tarot reading. It's just a no. But, I'm gonna let it slip, for the sake of the reading flow.**


	4. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: A fair warning, in this chapter, there is some animal cruelty. TT..TT
> 
> I want to thank you all who've left me feedback and have subscribed to this! It warms my heart so much, you have no idea, so, thank you! I appreciate that, I really do. And the story is actually just getting interesting, so I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the ride, too. I know I will.
> 
> Beta read by Elillierose

A heavy fist clenched and unclenched as he tried to calm his struck nerves. Air leaving him in hissed sighs, Gladiolus shook his head. He had gone overboard, big time. There was no justifying that. He should be able to do better, dammit! He whipped himself with self-scolding, leaning his head against the tree trunk as another deep sigh left him. "I'm an ass…" he muttered to himself. His teeth grit at the memory of the words, and another surge of fire ran through him.

How? How could she have possibly known?! Not in his wildest dreams did Gladiolus believe that she had actually read all that – his deepest fear – from just a few pieces of paper. But then, how…? Grunting, he slammed a fist against the trunk, hard, again, and again.

Ravus. The encounter hadn't left him for a day since then. Since then, he had been riddled with self-doubt. If he couldn't protect his prince then, what hope did he have to be able to be his shield? 'A weak shield protects naught,' that's what that man had said. And, Gladiolus' heart stung with the shiver that ran through him, maybe he wasn't fit to be his shield if he lacked the strength? Every day he was reminded of his own inadequacy. Every day he strived to better himself. To become stronger.

And then a stranger takes that and shoves it down his windpipe.

How did she do it? How on Eos could she just dig that out of him and ram it through him like that? Rage threatened to bubble inside him again, and he had to will it down. Once was too much; he couldn't afford such surrenders to his aggression. No doubt he was in for a lecture for his fit, anyway, Ignis roasting him for whatever impolite behavior or other nonsense he at the moment couldn't care less about. He knew it wasn't undeserved, though, he had it coming. But knowing he had it coming didn't exactly make him look forward to it.

Lost in thought and his eyes downcast, he didn't hear the steps rustling on the grass before Noctis was already close. "You care to explain?" The prince fixed him with a pointed look as he crossed his arms. "You didn't hurt him, by the way."

Shit. "Sorry."

"You don't need to tell me that. I said he's fine," Noctis shrugged, but the demand wasn't gone from his tone.

"Not that. I meant the whole thing," the brute returned the gaze as he pushed himself off the tree trunk he'd been leaning on for close to fifteen minutes. "I, uh, I went overboard." The other scoffed.

"You think?" he deadpanned, with a face that Gladio ironically recognized as the same he himself had given the junior countless times.

"Noct. I don't need you to tell me that. Look, let's just go."

"Not before you've given me an explanation."

"I just did."

"Don't really think that counts," Noctis' arms came back to his side, tension written all over his upper-body muscles. "What the hell was that about, Gladio?"

His mouth had run dry. Clearing his throat a little, the older man stood his ground, "You know, a lot of things I tend to share with you, Noct… but this is one you're just gonna have to let go." Without another word, Gladio pushed past him, ignoring the protests and demands of the young king. This was something he wasn't going to let them in on. This he had to work out on his own. It wasn't that he didn't trust them; it was because no-one but he himself could aid him in his duty. If he couldn't do this, on his own, then he wasn't fit for being his shield. It was that simple. It was brutal and it was honest. He either did this, or he'd die trying.

Gladio tried to ignore the subtle twitch and the tiptoeing look the gunner was giving him as he came closer. 'Shit…' He knew the slap hadn't been that hard, but hurting the kid wasn't the point. Prompto had never seen him lash out like that before.

"Gladio…?" Prompto begun, a bit apprehensively, little to the said man's liking.

"Sorry," he grunted. "About that…" He left it open, motioning toward his hand. Blinking a little, the gunner gave the limb a couple of shakes and shook his head,

"Unh, it's nothin', don't worry about it." Gladio's brows furrowed in doubt; he came to stand directly in front of the blond, forcing him to raise his chin to look him in the eye,

"Then why do you act like you're afraid of me?"

He heard Prompto gulping. His mouth opened and closed but nothing came out; instead the blond took a subconscious step back, the action like a knee into his gut. He hadn't wanted to see that. That flicker of fear on the other's face.

"Wha-what's with the closeness, all of a sudden?" Prompto forced a bit shaky chuckle, a hand rising to scratch the back of his neck; his demeanor screamed 'cornered'. "C'mon, Gladdy…!"

It was downright regrettable, taking in the gunslinger's reaction; he was about to say something, but the words never made it past his throat before,

"Gladio." Ignis' voice was an inferno. His eyes fixed on the shield, his whole aura radiated such authority Gladio knew exactly what was coming before the adviser even had the chance to get going. "Do I even need to say it? That was highly uncalled for, and despite your less than subtle disagreement with her practice, we didn't need you causing a scene. We're expecting you to control yourself in accordance to your position." The man fell silent, the fierce look delivering the rest of it silently. Gladio couldn't help a scoff; what he didn't need was Ignis to scold him. He managed that well enough on his own.

"Are we done here?"

"Would you like me to continue?" Ignis took a step closer as his arms rose across his chest.

"Guys!" Prompto's voice broke the staring contest that had ensued. "We should probably go."

"Don't get in-" Ignis begun but was cut off,

"For once, I'm actually with him," Gladio snorted, turning his back to all of them. "Let's head back before we get soaked."

"How come?" Noctis questioned, his tone softening. The survivalist pointed his finger towards the skies, where coal-colored clouds were already stretching over the land.

"There's a storm comin'."

* * *

The smell of smoke and cindering rose petals lingered in the stale air, a smog haze spreading from the golden urn into the small room like vaporous tendrils. The woman ran her hand through the ribbons rising from the pot, breathing in the aroma. Then, into the pot, she cast a handful of fur; the soft scent turned bitter with the burning hairs fouling the air as the tuft curled up and blackened.

Sitting by the table, the solitary figure held a deck of cards in her frail hands. The candlelight flickered on the ornamental decorations on the pieces of paper as she shuffled them with ease. Outside, heavy raindrops slapped against the small windows, and the roar of the thunder rattled the roofing shingles. The nervous, frightened whines of a small animal sounded pitifully from across the room.

Kimya held her eyes closed as she kept shuffling, a self-satisfied smirk over the aged lips. "Over the land, tall he stands," the age-worn voice prattled. "Like a lion, like a lamb." A lightning bolt struck, flashing the hut with whiteness, casting a grim shadow over the woman's features. With the fading light, she stilled her hand, and laid down the first card: the Strength.

"Driven by calling, a shield in his hand." The second card, the Four of Swords, a tired soldier resting quietly, four blades surrounding him. "Doubt and despair, his mind now cloud." On the urn, the furs had turned to embers, a stinging stench wallowing around the woman like a veil. "Of his cage, one needs to break out."

Setting the deck aside, she rose to wander across the room to a small cage. In it, a fat rat sniffled the air, its whiskers twitching with the anticipation. Kimya smiled a sorrowful smile before reaching a hand inside and grabbing the trembling creature, its small screeches elevating in pitch and volume as the fingers closed around it. In her free hand glimmered the steel.

"The dust of the earth, the vessel of strife," she prattled as she laid the rat onto the table, the knife poised above its belly; the animal was struggling and whining, terrified out of its mind with the sense of danger. Holding her eyes closed, she thrust the blade down, feeling the stilling as warmth spread over her fingers. "And the blood, to breathe in new life," she near-whispered as she reached over to drop a few droplets of blood into the urn; there was a brief flash of emerald as the crimson touched the smouldering furs.

Setting down the knife to lay down the third card, her smirk widened knowingly: the Death. "In a beast's body, shall he thus tread. Until he weathers, or until he is dead."

Outside, a lightning struck again, followed by the earth-shaking rumble. Inside the small hut, the woman snatched up the Strength, and threw it into the urn, where the paper wriggled a little before the corner caught fire. Dark eyes observed solemnly how the flames licked higher, consuming the blackening figure on the card. From somewhere in the distance came the haunting howls of a wolf; they were drowned under the rumble of thunder as a lightning bolt tore up the sky.

* * *

The rain pounded on the tent with the fury of the very gods, it seemed; the strong gusts of wind rattled the flimsy structures dangerously, but so far they had held. "Wow. It's really comin' down, isn't it?" Prompto mused in awe; as if to prove a point, he unzipped a crack into the tent cover and peeked out: he saw a shower. The landscape was drowned under the heavy pour, he could barely see the edge of the haven, all else was covered in mist. "Yep. Cats, dogs and a let's throw in a few grannies for a good measure."

"Close it up, will you? You're letting the heat out, what little we have, that is," Noctis shuddered slightly, raising his eyes from the playing cards he held in his hand for long enough to glance at him. With a slightly longing expression, the blond did as he was told.

"Yeah, and can we move on from the grannies already?" Gladio added a bit sulkily. "A fair share for one day." With that comment, something shifted in the atmosphere among them. Ignis fixed him with a pointed look, one that told exactly how little it pleased him that Gladio had refused to explain his fit with Kimya. He had apologized, but his tone had also made it clear that it'd be the best they left it at that. They had, if only to avoid a conflict where they didn't need one. It was clear that Gladio's pride had taken a blow, and they could all understand that he'd be a bit unwilling to talk about it. But the vehemence, the adviser thought, that was new. "Your turn, Iggs."

Neat brows rising a little, Ignis scrolled through his hand, and sighed deeply. "I'll fold."

"Again?" Noctis gawked mockingly. "Not your day, Specs." Snorting, the adviser flipped his hand over: two and jack of clubs, six of spades, and five and eight of hearts. No, today really wasn't his day. He'd lost 60 Gil to the others in four games, and Ignis was beginning to think they'd pump him dry if he kept going like this.

"Tough luck, man," Prompto smirked. "You should be glad we're not playing strip."

"Then at least I would still have my funds if not my pride," the adviser grumbled begrudgingly.

"Alright, so what'll be, guys? Everyone good?" Noctis snatched the deck, glancing at them both questioningly.

"I'm good," the blond chirped, his eyes cunning as he tapped the backs of his cards.

"Gladio?"

"I'll take one," the shield deadpanned; without a word, the raven handed him a card.

They went around their bets until everyone was satisfied; then, the prince made the initiative, "Alright, let's get to it. Prom?"

His face pure arrogance, the blond proudly laid onto the floor a full house. "Beat that!"

Smirking, Noctis looked at him, and watched how his friend's face faltered. The look was so knowing, so egotistically self-satisfied that Noctis might as well have said, 'watch me'. One by one, his eyes never leaving the horrified look on Prompto's face and his smirk spreading a little wider with each card laid onto the floor, he dealt out his four aces. "What was that you said again, 'beat that'?" he mimicked teasingly, feeling like giving himself a high five as the other's eyes widened astronomically. "So, I'd hate to disappoint you but…" Noctis was already reaching for the bet pile when a large hand closed around his.

Twingling a single card between his fore and middle finger, Gladio grinned disapprovingly, "How many aces are there in one deck?" Between his fingers, he held the ace of spades. The blond's gasp was loud.

"No way, man! You cheated?!"

"And would have succeeded," Ignis nodded with a mixed look of scolding and dark appreciation. "A flawless poker face, and the skill to pull it off."

Noctis chuckled, a guilty-slash-amused look on his face. "And was it the last card that gave me away, I wonder."

"I'm afraid your little scheme was doomed from the beginning. You dealt me that ace originally." Noctis let out a mock-grunt and faked taking a blow.

"There's always something!"

"How 'bout I'll deal from now on?" the shield smiled slyly; the raven made a face but handed the deck over anyway. "Thank you, Your Naughtiness."

"Bite me."

"Pull something like that again, and I just might," Gladio snorted, and let out a low growl before his lips pulled into a wolf-like snarl and he snapped his jaws in his direction. It was countered with an eyeroll and a small shake of a dark head.

"So, who's in for the next round?" Everyone raised their hands, Ignis a bit slower than the younger men; grunting an acknowledgement, the dark man quickly counted the cards to make sure Noctis hadn't slipped anything extra in there, and shuffled.

By the time the first man dropped out - Prompto, stating that he was 'about to take the eleven-forty-two to Slumberland' - Ignis was up to 90 lost Gil and a smirk-long gash wound on his pride.

* * *

The low rustling in the undergrowth was the sole warning. The first and the last, and so very missable in the vivid night. Droplets of fresh moisture fell from the tall blades of grass as it swept by; leaves bent and broke under the heavy pressure stalking closer.

It was hot, so hot! And a beating strong and relentless like a migraine attack of a heart thrummed into the hearing. The bushes and branches raked against the face roughly, but it was ignored. Ignored because it didn't matter. All that mattered was presented in front of the deadly eyes in the darkness. It was right there, the spiracorn calf, happily eating away as the mare busied herself with the same task further down the hill. From somewhere reverberated a low, hungry growl. More leaves were crushed as it crept closer.

A breeze came, and the mare's head was up in an instant, the large nostrils flaring as she deciphered the danger. The restless stomping of the hooves as well as warning neighs beckoned the calf to come to her, to come to safety. But it was too late. It had been too late for a long time.

In three terrible leaps, it was on the calf, its massive weight snapping a leg like a twig, the fine bones shattering under the onslaught. The adults had ran, the mare with the rest of the herd, her instincts telling her to flee, to save herself because there was no leader, no companion, no god that could help her baby anymore.

It sunk its teeth into the calf's neck, the warm blood gushing onto its tongue and gums, teasingly, lighting up a gluttonous urge to devour. With a disgusting clenching sound, the windpipe was crushed, the downed prey struggling against the chokehold in vain. The claws tore into its side, red staining the pelt as it let out strangled whinnies and wheezy breaths. From somewhere came the desperate neighs of the mother as it hopelessly tried to help her young, and yet feared to approach the scene, for there was the stench. The stench of distress and gore. Death. The calf smelled like death.

The thrashing of the small head got weaker and weaker as the lack of oxygen stepped up to claim its price. The teeth sunk in deeper, not allowing any relief as the struggles toned down to jerks, until all went still.

From somewhere deep bellowed a guttural growl, fearsome and ferocious, rumbling in its gut until rising up its throat. It threw its head back, and against the blacked-out sky sounded a long, wailing howl.

Gladiolus woke with a startle. His back clenching into a half-risen arch, bent in an angle that couldn't have been comfortable, the last echoes of the fading howl ringed in his ears, quickly to be drowned under the shallow, strangled pants. The sting in his abused muscles didn't register until the amber had made out the familiar interior of the tent, the sleeping forms of Ignis and Noct curled up on both of his sides, blissfully unaware of his terror as they kept slumbering with only a small, drowsy snort coming from Ignis as he shifted in his sleep.

Covered in cold sweat, the shield couldn't ignore the ache in his protesting back anymore, and with sheer willpower he managed to calm his breath enough to draw in a few deep, carefully coordinated intakes to help him to will his body to relax. It wasn't that easy; with the rush still ripping through him like an electric shock, the tense muscles clenched and loosened before clenching again as he fought his fright. With significant effort, he eventually felt his back muscles stretching back to allow his spine to touch the mattress again, and still drawing in a careful breath after another, he willed himself to go slack against the cushion. As the last of the adrenaline drained from his system, he was left shivering as the cool night air graced his sweat-sheened skin.

As he laid there, breathing small puffs into the darkness, the taste in his mouth registered. Through his shaken haze, it took longer than it usually would have to place the foreign flavor; the coppery taste that left behind the notion of umami.

Blood.

Gladiolus tasted blood.


	5. Carcass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry for the wait, guys! TToTT But! I had this awesome larp going on this past weekend, and it was a bang, holy shit! I must have been collecting the pieces of my soul for the entire Sunday, it was prrretty intense stuff that happened to my character. :D But now, now I think I'm back on track, with fresh inspiration for the supernatural, so I promise you'll get the next update sooner than this one. Thanks for your patience & thank you for enjoying this!
> 
> It's a bit short this time, but I felt like I didn't wanna drag this on. We're back into kinda smoother sailing for a while, but I promise it'll pick up intensity again, come the next two chapters, lol.
> 
> Beta read by Elillierose
> 
> Lotsa love to all of you guys! Cheers!

When his alarm went off, the brute simply picked up the phone for long enough to shut it down. He briefly wondered why he hadn't just cancelled it altogether, after it had become clear that he wasn't getting any more sleep that night.

He smacked his tongue a couple of times, a twist of disgust forming over his features at the remnants of the foul taste. For the umpteenth time, he ran his searching tongue over the insides of his mouth, looking for the swelling indicating the place where he had bitten himself, only to come up with nothing. Nothing felt achy or puffy. But it must have been quite a chomp, for the taste of blood to stick for that long. There should have been some roughness, at least.

His train of thought was interrupted by movement. Next to him, Ignis shifted, and light yawns could be heard from under his covers as the man gradually stirred into wakefulness. He debated on saying something to let him know that, this morning, he wasn't the only one awake. "Mornin'."

The small jerk didn't go unnoticed. Ignis rubbed his eyes as he sat up slowly, a small frown of irritation over his features that would even itself out with the man's designated morning cup of coffee. "Morning. You seem to be up early."

"Yep."

"Trouble sleeping, perhaps?"

"Could say that."

Ignis' hum was one of understanding. "Well, in that case… are you planning on staying in bed still, or would you care to assist me?" he asked as he neatly folded the covers off himself. Shrugging under the concealments of his bedding, it took a moment for the shield to realize he would have to word his reply,

"Sure. 'S not like I'm gonna catch another eyeful, anyway." A small, grateful smile visited the adviser for maybe half a heartbeat.

"Well then, may I suggest that you help me assemble the breakfast?"

"Just lemme know whatcha want," the brute leaned his neck to the side to work out a few kinks from his neck as he, too peeled the bedcovers off himself. As he got up, though, a sting of pain lashed across his strained back, and a small hiss escaped the man. The adviser's brows had risen a degree at the distinctive sound of pain. "Son of a…" he muttered under his breath as he pulled his arms into a stretch.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Just stiff," he grunted under his breath. "It's no big deal." The adviser gave a court nod as his reply before fixing his glasses, and at that, he was out of the tent. The draught teased Gladio's unclothed torso, the hairs in his arms rising at the cool grace. Willing down another shudder, he braced himself against the morning chill, and climbed out.

The sky hung low above them like a lead haze. Blocked out with cold bluish clouds, the sky threatened them with another outbreak at any moment. Ignis was setting up his stove arrangement, pans and pots already out. The bespectacled man turned his attention from his task as the strolling footsteps approached him. "Ah, Gladio. Would you mind getting us some water?" he motioned towards the canister sitting by the cooking assembly. "There's a creek maybe a mile downhill," he had turned his attention to the food items he was browsing through and was gesturing towards the general direction he meant, knowing the other would understand.

"Gotcha. Need anything else?" Gladio nodded as he bent forward to stretch out some soreness from his back.

"Not at the moment, I would say."

"Alright. See you in a few." Turning his back to the half-muttered 'thank you', he left the strategist to his routines, ignoring the protests of his strained body. Small jabs of ache danced along his entire backside, from his shins all the way up to the base of his skull. Each step brought forward a reminder of tenseness, and although it wasn't bad enough to actually hurt, it definitely made things more tedious.

Ignis had been on point, though; only just outside of the haven's immediate vicinity, Gladiolus spotted the glimmer of sunrays on water, the creek snaking at the bottom of a small moor valley. He made a delighted snort, and headed down.

The sun had risen to peek through the trees by the time he was climbing up again, but the ground was still moist from the rain and dew; his boots made 'splish' noises as he grinded up the hill, once or twice almost slipping on the slippery surface.

He still doesn't know what made him to steer his course towards the other side of the hill, but finding himself crossing the meadow from the opposite side than from whence he had come, Gladiolus picked up a scent. It was faint, but it contrasted too greatly with the crispness of the morning to not stand out. It was heavy and it was stale and it was something awfully similar to another lingering sentiment he had felt lately. Sniffing the air a few times to make sure he hadn't imagined it - judging by the way his night was spent, it wouldn't have been a surprise if he had - Gladiolus left the container and followed it.

Not long after he almost wished he hadn't.

* * *

"Took your time." There was a slight scolding in Ignis' voice as the heavy footfalls resounded close-by. But as the man was left waiting for a response that never came, Ignis' brows furrowed in silent question as he turned to Gladio. The man didn't look at him as he placed the load by his feet,

"Sorry."

All Ignis' warning sirens went off at the sound of that. "What happened?" he asked hastily, his tone significantly different from just a moment ago. A silent gulp slid down his throat as the shield finally looked at him; the amber eyes were rigid with alarm.

"There's something all of ya should probably see for yarselves," he fixed the adviser with a look that made it clear that he was dead-serious about this; a look Ignis hadn't seen too many times, but when he had, it had never been anything to take lightly. Nodding his understanding, he didn't pry, knowing that Gladio would explain once Noctis and Prompto were present, too, but just to be sure, he asked anyway,

"Should I be prepared?"

The shield mulled it over before giving his answer, "That's the thing. I have no idea what for."

* * *

"So, there," Gladio grunted, a hint of disgust in his tone.

"Whoa!" Prompto let out a half-sigh of morbid astonishment. Next to him, Noctis made a shuddering motion and averted his eyes as his arms rose to his chest.

On the grass laid the mutilated carcass of a spiracorn, just a calf judging by the size. And by the looks of it, its young life had ended less than pleasantly. The calf's side had been ravaged, its ribs laid bare against the dark reddish flesh; innards lied haphazardly in the ground around its small form. Its back leg was sprawled in an odd angle, a bone showing where the tissue had torn when the splinter had pierced through. The grass around the sight was littered with blood and pieces of torn flesh.

"Wha-what did this?" the blond uttered, talking to himself more than to the others. He gazed at it with macabre interest, like he was watching something strictly prohibited and yet oddly enticing. His attention was brought back only by the soft gagging sound Noctis made next to him. "You ok, bro?"

Noctis didn't look at him, "Can we just get goin' now?"

His shield ignored him as he crouched next to the slain animal. "Whatever did this, it's big," he spoke, expecting them all to pay attention. "The way this calf's been suffocated, it's a hunting method customary to large predators. We're talking a coeurl – or worse," he spoke with his teacher tone as he motioned towards the crushed trachea.

"Hey, we just took down a downright dinosaur, like, yesterday, right?! So what's one coeurl?" Prompto chuckled a small snort; a terrible attempt to lighten the mood, he understood as the shield gave him a look. His "sorry" was quiet.

The older man wasn't amused. "There's a difference between us and other people, Prompto. We're accustomed to fighting. We can take care of ourselves. Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?" He hadn't meant to snap, but it still came out a bit harsher than he had intended, and a small pang hit him as the blond's cheeks colored and he averted his eyes.

"I would think a beast capable of such evisceration would indeed exceed even a coeurl when it comes to dangerousness, although I wouldn't expect this one to be quite as massive in size as the creature from yesterday," Ignis spoke lowly, his concerned tone cutting into the souring mood to break the descent and direct their attention back to the matter at hand. "Knowing that something like that is on the prowl, though…" he let his voice fade, knowing he didn't need to finish it. The emerald eyes drifted in the direction of the prince.

"Second that," Gladio sighed heavily as he pushed himself to stand, and crossed his arms. "And, little as I like to say this, we shouldn't let a beast like this get the chance to hurt people. This time it was just an animal, but who's to say someone will be as lucky next time?" His gaze went through them as the implications of what he wasn't saying sunk. There were soft exhales of understanding as eyes flicked towards the direction of the haven.

"So, how should we go on about this?" Noctis sounded almost tenacious. He had a hunch where this was going, and he really, really didn't like it.

Gladiolus shrugged as if the answer had been obvious, "We go take care of it."

"Somehow, I knew you'd say that," he sighed as he shook his head.

"Noct. We can't just leave it out there. Just look at what it did to that calf," Gladio was close to preaching as he motioned towards the butchery. He left unvoiced the 'imagine if that had been a person'.

"Calm down, will you? I get it," he half-chuckled, raising his hands as if to show surrender.

"I agree," Ignis noted, fingering his glasses as the observant orbs scanned the carcass over. "As of this discovery, I would think it is our duty to ensure the safety of civilians, not to mention our own for that matter. As of now, we have obviously lost the tracks, so I suggest we return to the camp and regroup before devising a strategy."

"So we're really gonna do this, huh?" Prompto sighed, shaking his head.

"You know of a better way?" Gladiolus said with a small bite, daring him to challenge him.

"If I did, I would have told you. Just, do excuse me that I'm not too eager to go after something that will most likely eat me," he chuckled, arms crossed.

"Like there's anything much to munch on on you," the shield smirked as he smacked him on the shoulder and pushed by.

"Hey!"

Brushing the blond's grumbles off with nothing more than a shake of the dark mane, Gladiolus didn't look back as he headed back for the camp, trusting the others to follow him. He kept a steady lead, in order to hide the last detail of the puzzle presented to them: the frown marring his features. The crook of concern spreading across his forehead at the all too familiar nagging feeling telling him that something was off, that they were facing a danger. By now, it was obvious to Gladiolus what that feeling had been about. It wasn't something he wanted to share with them, however; he didn't know how to explain it. They had seen enough, they knew that they should expect the unexpected – that was enough. This little detail, this piece of information Gladio would save for himself to fuss over. As he made way, half-heartedly happy to hear the rustling of three steps behind him, all he could think about was that Dave was going to owe them big time.


	6. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN1: First of all, a shout-out to all of you who've read this and left comments! Makes me so happy! Also, thank you for your patience, everyone! I know the last chapter took forever, but now I'm so excited about this story again! I had an awesome larp this past weekend! If you know the table top game series The World of Darkness, well, it's a WoD larp, and gives me so amazing supernatural vibes to channel into this!
> 
> Anyway, so this is the last of the sorta more slow-paced chapters, I hope it's not dull. I tried to show some mild fluff in here as well, you know, something to hopefully make you smile. I know some of it may sound flirtatious, and feel free to interpret it that way if you wish, lol. But it's still supposed to be pretty innocent. It's a little bit on the long side, but I didn't wanna chop it down and lengthen it any more than it already is.
> 
> Beta read by Elillierose.
> 
> Let's go!

Nothing.

Gladiolus' jaw muscles tightened a little. 'Alright, boy, breathe. Just breathe.'

Nine and a half hours. Nine and a half hours almost non-stop they had criss-crossed the terrain, back and forth, turning seemingly every stone and checking behind every bush. Nothing. Nine and a half hours, and they had come up with the impressive total of goddamn nothing. The silver-lining was, there hadn't been other half-eaten remains of a past creature slaughter, but there hadn't been much else, either. Not a pawprint, no feces, no potentially habitable nesting places within the walking distance from the haven. Nothing.

This creature could have been a ghost, for all they knew.

"C'mon. Let's keep looking," he urged the others up from where they had stopped for a breather; the looks he received were borderline suffering.

"Just ten more minutes," Noctis' voice held irritation as he leaned his back against a boulder, knees drawn to his chest. "Besides…"

"Don't say it, Noct," the shield warned him but didn't look at the prince.

"What do you expect us to find that we wouldn't have already?"

"Now what did I just tell ya?" Gladiolus sighed as he turned to look at the shrugging young man.

"Just sayin'."

"Noct's got a point, though," Prompto sighed out under his breath. He, too, had sat down, his arms around his knees and head resting against the stone, eyes closed as he savored the reprieve allowed to his aching feet. "Say, a thing like that, it should be, you know, kinda big, right? Kinda, not hard to find?"

"You'd be surprised," the shield snorted, refusing to let his own frustration show. Sure, they had been at it for hours, and sure, he had expected them to find at least something – tracks, tufts of fur, anything – by now. But, he wasn't new to this, not like those two. He knew that, "It's often the large creatures that are masterful hiders. You might pass one right by and never know it."

"Yeah, but wouldn't it still have left behind something? I mean, if it's even around anymore." And although not voiced, the 'if it ever was' was audible in his tone. Gladiolus let out a soft grunt; what the gunner had said, undeniably that had crossed his mind, too. It was likely the creature had moved out of the area. The carcass was a few hours old already when he found it; by now, a creature of that size could be ten miles away, perhaps farther. Large predators often had huge territories. It was likely they were looking for a needle that wasn't there.

"That should be good news," Ignis' cheerful words contrasted sharply with the grim tone they were spoken with. "However, I must say this uncertainty does little to calm the disquiet. I would much rather be assured that the area is secure before we left."

"As would I," Noctis nodded, "but we can't exactly do anything about that if we can't find it."

"So, let's keep looking," the bodyguard motioned for them to get up. "C'mon. We've only got a few hours left before we need to head back. It'd be way too dangerous to hunt this thing in the dark." A round of agreeing nods, and they all got up and gave their limbs a little rattling to make the blood flow again.

"So, better make tracks," Noctis tossed out casually as he rolled his shoulder.

"You said it."

"Are we, uh, gonna stay until we find it?" Prompto asked, not quite managing to hide the apprehension from his tone. "Or until, you know, it finds us?"

"… Let's just keep looking," Noctis muttered, not looking at the stupefied expression on his friend's face.

The sun had crept close to horizon by the time they finally called it a day. "A day well wasted," as Noctis had put it when they had finished with the same disappointing results: aching feet, growling stomachs and a whole lot of nothing else. The mood was sour, frustration boiling just beneath the surface. The usually casual chatter was few and far between that night as they all more or less purposefully avoided idle conversation, in hopes of not ending up letting it slip how utterly pointless their efforts had been, and striking the ants' nest.

Not that Gladiolus couldn't see it from their turned backs and tight expressions whenever he happened to catch a glimpse of one.

Raking a hand through his hair, he let out a long sigh before letting the arm drop back to his lap. The hardly-touched bowl of birdbeast curry sat on his thigh, and the man twirled the contents around haphazardly, but none of it found its way into his mouth. With another sigh, the amber eyes rose to gaze up at the star-lit heavens. Some distance behind him, the edges of the camp fire's light marked the reaches of their safety, the shield sitting just a stretch outside of the perimeter of luminescence.

To say he was disappointed with himself would have been putting it mildly.

The grip on the bowl tightened; a flash of anger twisting his features. With all of his years of experience, he had expected to do better. Sure, tracking wasn't his specialty, per se; survivalism was. But those two weren't that far from each other, one skill needed the other, and frankly, he had given himself more credit in the aforementioned. And here he was, having lost a beast the size of a small car without as much as a trace. A low growl was let out in conjunction to another exhale; this was below him. And he didn't bother telling himself the others didn't think so, too.

The supposedly secretive head-shakes, the looks they exchanged when they thought Gladio wasn't looking… It was clear to him they were beginning to question the whole thing. That whether there was anything out there in the first place.

There was, Gladio was sure of it. He refused to believe that he would have imagined the ill feeling he had had since they arrived here. Finally, it seemed to point at something. And the calf, it hadn't torn itself up, that's for sure. It didn't make sense. The animal had looked like it had been savaged. And yet the carcass hadn't been wholly consumed. It meant a solo hunter; a pack would have scavenged a body so small to the bone. But how on earth did something that ferocious not leave a single sign of its presence, other than the masticated remains?!

The purposeful steps approaching from behind jerked him from his reverie. He lazily turned his head enough to glance over his shoulder, Ignis' amiably amused expression shaded by the shadows descending around them. Gladiolus gave a soft snort and turned his eyes back forth, waiting for the man to take a seat next to him. "Mind if I join you?"

"I see that you already have," his voice was laughing.

"Indeed. …Would you rather I leave?"

"Do whatever you like," he shook his head, the gesture smoothing his bluntness out a little.

"Thank you."

"So, what's up?" the man sighed as he finally averted his attention from the dark landscape. "You came to kiss my wound good, Mama? To make sure I didn't get the boo-boos?" he teased, the amber twinkling mischievously.

Ignis returned that with a small smile and a tug at his glasses, "Actually, I came to let you know that Noct is heading for bed and that perhaps you should, too. If we are to take a repeat of today in what can hardly be called long enough for a good night's sleep."

"You mean another day of pointless sightseeing?" Gladio snorted, not quite able to keep the spite from his tone. The neat brows of the other furrowed a little.

"Not what I said."

"But what you thought." The small gulping sound Ignis made wasn't exactly a denial; the dark man sighed a long breath as he shook his head, and pushed himself up from the boulder he had been sitting on. "Well, let's go. Someone's gotta keep a watch." The tone with which the shield said that left little room for guessing identities. That's why the adviser's next words threw him off in honest surprise,

"And that someone would be me." A look of bafflement came over the other's face.

"What?"

"I'll be taking the watch tonight," Ignis stated, and just as the shield was about to argue, "Please don't make me repeat myself. Your previous night was hardly well spent, and do not think I haven't noticed that. So, now be the good boy, and do as Mama tells you." It was accentuated with arms crossed over the toned chest and a playful smirk dancing over his features, and the older man found himself chuckling at his own joke turned against him. As expected of the man calling himself the royal adviser.

"Alright. But promise you'll wake me up if anything comes up," the older man's hands weaved over his chest, too, and he fixed him with a stern look.

"Agreed. Now, shall we?" Ignis pointed a gloved thumb over his shoulder.

"Sure," Gladio shrugged, and after a moment added, "And Iggy?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks."

"But of course." And Gladiolus was briefly left to wonder why he had never noticed that Ignis' smiles fell under two categories: the polite and official ones, and the genuine, soft ones, like the one currently gracing his features.

* * *

The dew of the humid night glistened on the coal-colored fur as it weaved through the growth. The small whisks of breeze carried scents of the outside world into its quietly flaring nostrils: the scents of fire, the odors of sweat, testosterone and pheromones. It raised its head from the concealments of the thicket, the sniffing sounds now aggressive and intentional. A low, threatening growl was emitted from within the darkness.

There was a hue contrasting against the darkness where these smells were coming from, and the short tufts of fur in its back stood tensely. Silently, like a shadow of the natural world, it sneaked closer, the aromas growing stronger as it gradually neared the edge of the light.

By the fire, there was figure, sitting, its back turned. The shoulders of the human rose and fell only slightly, but evenly, and its puffs came in a slow, relaxed pace. The prey hadn't noticed it. The human was completely vulnerable.

The lips pulled into a snarl that bared the canines. One heavy paw landed into the half-light, then the other, the third one; the reflection of the dancing flames outlining the prey glimmered in the darkened amber orbs as it lowered itself onto its hind legs, preparing to pounce – to maim, to kill – and with a half-voiced growl, it leaped.

Ignis woke with a startle, the emerald eyes snapping behind him at break-neck speed; cold shivers ran down his suddenly sweat-sheened skin, his shirt sticking a little. It took a few rapid pants to calm his breath as he peered into the darkness, investigatively, almost interrogatingly. There was nothing there, just the flickering of the light where it met the surrounding darkness. Short gasps for breath; frantic shifting of his eyes as he tried to make out shapes. Only as his heart rate began its descent, the adrenaline draining from him, did Ignis let out the deep breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

With no small amount of self-scolding, Ignis had to come to accept that he had dozed off, and his hand raking through the brunet, sweat-licked hair gave a small, punishing tug. With a few more sighed exhales, he finally let his shoulders relax, the arm dropping down to his lap. His unoccupied hand rubbed under his glasses, chasing away any lingering sleep as his pulse gradually evened out. 'That won't do, Ignis,' he thought with a chide. 'That won't do at all. You cannot fall asleep on watch duty.' He let out a soft, self-reprimanding snort; how did this happen? He surely knew better, or at least he damn well should! He himself had practically insisted that he stayed up on watch; if he hadn't thought he'd be up for it, he hadn't been so persistent.

With one last disapproving sigh, he went to poke the fire and threw in another couple of pieces of wood; him beating himself over his slip-up for the rest of the night wasn't going to make up for it, so he might as well drop it. But…

But.

Against his better judgment, Ignis' mind trailed back to one single detail of his less than pleasant awakening not five minutes ago, and another set of shivers ran down his back, there was nothing he could do to stop them. For what had woken him up – and Ignis tried not to let his emotions run loose again at the realization – had been the sense of a breath on his neck. An exhale, not a breeze. A puff of air distinctive to be of a creature origin. Of a large creature origin. Breathing down his neck.

A shuddering breath was forced out as his entire form shook, arms snaking around in a weak attempt to shield himself from the unnatural coldness that had suddenly settled inside him.

* * *

Ignis woke them up early. Surely it was simply practical, just in order to get an early head start for their day of searching; surely it had nothing to do with Ignis' quiet, beckoning wish for some company after the long night spent all alone. Yes. Alone. Definitely alone. Just he and the fire, and… Ignis gulped quietly. And nothing else!

"What's the emergency?" came Prompto's half-yawn as the man tried to rub the remnants of sleep from his eyes. "It's, like, five, Iggs."

"Don't be absurd, Prompto. It is almost five thirty, if you must know. And since we're in for what might become an elongated hunt, I suggest we get to it posthaste," the chef tossed over his shoulder, not taking his attention from the sizzling eggs cooking beautifully on the pan in front of him. "Now, would you mind making sure His Highness actually gets up, please?"

"It's 5:17," the gunner threw a glare at the man as he stuffed the phone back into his pocket. "And sure. But just so you know, if Noct kills me for prodding him this early, I'll friggin' haunt you or something." Visibly rolling his eyes, the blond climbed back into the tent, only to stick the ruffled mass of hair out not three seconds later, "I suppose you'd want Gladdy out as well?"

The surprise was apparent in the voice, "You mean he didn't wake up?"

"Sleeps like a baby. In fact, I think he's mumbling. Or then it's just my stomach, but I'm pretty sure it's the big guy."

"Well, then yes, please. If you don't mind." Prompto just shrugged as he disappeared back in, conveniently missing the slight furrowing of the neat eyebrows.

"Noct? Hey, Noct. Buddy. Time to get up, man," the blond spoke lowly as he gave the blanket-covered shoulder a few shakes. His reply was incoherent mutter sounds and shifting as the prince stubbornly turned his back to the other and buried himself all the way. "Noct." The voice carried a hint of a warning. "Noct, you're not making this easy for me. C'mon, man!"

"Go bother someone else," came the muffled mutter, and the blond sighed in irritation.

"This wasn't exactly my idea, you know," his frustration was audible. "Iggy wants us up. Last warning, man. Are you gonna come quietly?" 'Or do I have to resort to dirty tactics?'

Maybe Noct was asking for it. Maybe he wanted to see if Prompto would actually go that far. Or maybe he simply had dozed off enough to become oblivious to his last chance. But as the sleepy form showed no sign of awakening, it was with a darker shade of half-snort that Prompto's lips spread into a grin that showed teeth.

It wasn't public knowledge, but Prince Noctis was ticklish.

He could feel the jolt coursing through the prince as cool fingers crept under the blanket, and descended upon his shirtless skin. "Heaugh-ahaha! Pr-om!... Stah-stop it…! Ahahah, sto-ohp…" the man forced out between the uncontrollable bursts of laughter as he tossed under his soft confines. "Stoph it!... Prom… hahaha… can'… breathe… ahahaha!"

"You had your chance man," Prompto smirked. "You didn't take it. Now suffer the consequences."

"Ahahaha… sta-staphaha! Hahaha, alright… al-alright…"

Seeing water prickling in the corners of the dark eyelashes, Prompto deemed that he had had enough. Grinning a bit apologetically, he allowed the man his space. Noctis was left panting lightly as the last hiccups of laughter quieted down, and he fixed him with a cocky look. "Asshole," he uttered under his breath.

"Hey, you brought it upon yourself, man," the blond tossed back. "Get up."

"Alright, already," sleep now totally deserted him as the prince started dressing. Until a soft sound turned both of their attention to the third person still in the tent, and they exchanged a look that spoke volumes. "You serious?"

"No way, man… He didn't wake up to that?!"

Not three feet from the younger men, Gladiolus twitched in deep sleep. Gladiolus, who was usually instantly alert of any odd noise coming from within what seemed like a hundred-yard radius. Gladiolus, who was always at least the second to rise in the morning, if not the first. Gladiolus, who didn't sleep through a tickle attack taking place right next to him.

But, the next sound and the adjoined movement was what brought a cold lump into both of their stomachs. The shield let out what can only be called a desperate whimper, and his face morphed into that of panic. "Dude. Is he dreaming?" Prompto thought out loud as he scooted closer to the man. "Gladio? Gladdy?" No response, but the man threw his head to the side, discomfort visible in his jerky movements. "Gladio?!"

"No!"

The next thing Prompto knew was the weight crushing his ribcage; a small sound was let out as air left him. In one swift motion, the shield had jerked up and pushed him to the ground; his head swam a little as the heavy arm across his chest grinded down.

Two voices spoke at the same time, but one was more apparent to him. Noctis' incredulous 'what are you doing' almost disappeared under the baffled, frightened voice coming from above him, "Prompto…?" The sound of that, more than anything forced the blue eyes widening a crack, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. The amber held a look Prompto didn't think he had ever seen in the man's eyes before. Confusion. Regret. Disbelief. As the weight hastily pulled off him, reflexes drawing in warmly welcomed heaves of air, Prompto almost wished he didn't go. Didn't move, for he wanted to study that look just a little longer, knowing that it would be gone by the time he picked himself up from the floor. For he didn't understand, well, not any of what had just transpired, but that look puzzled him the most. It had been a look of pure, unfiltered fear of losing control. What on Eos would bring a look like that upon the man's face?

"What's going on?!" The adviser's tone held concern as he peeked inside, instantly taken aback by what he saw: the bewilderment written all over Noctis; Gladiolus on his knees, white-knuckled fists clenching the fabric of his pajama pants; and by his side, Prompto pushing himself up from the floor, panting lightly, a light sheen of sweat on his face. "What happened?" He couldn't possibly have sounded any more relentless in his demand to get an answer as he, too, climbed all the way into the tent.

"Yeah, I'd like to know that, too," the raven almost spat as he shot a hot glare at the oldest.

"Guys, I'm ok," Prompto tried to brush it off, but the stern look on his friend's face didn't falter.

Gladiolus' eyes were fixed on a spot in the tent floor as he mulled it all over in his head. "Sorry about that," he eventually said, but somehow his voice sounded hollow. Like he was still in deep thought although the words came out. "I must have dreamt. You know, I was sure it was…" His voices trailed into quiet suddenly, like he didn't know how to continue. That was a poor excuse, and he knew that. But that's all he got. He didn't know any better. Or if anything, perhaps he himself understood even less than the others. It had been right there, he could have sworn it, leaping towards the adviser, its canines bared and ready to sink into the flesh…

"You _dreamt_? Noctis sounded like he was calling bullshit. "Well, must have been a pretty vivid dream." All these years, he had never seen him sleep-walking. Not to mention sleep- _fighting_. And it didn't sit well with him that the first time it happened, it had been Prompto.

"Noct," Ignis cut in, his expression warning the man to not say any more if all that was going to come out of him was pointless bickering. Then he turned his attention back to the gunner. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it." It was genuine. Honest. Prompto held nothing against the shield, Ignis understood. So why did he have the feeling that not everything was said? "Gladio?" he beckoned his attention.

"Hmm?"

"What did you think it was?" He heard the gulp that slid down the man's throat.

"This's prolly gonna sound weird but… I thought… I was tackling a deamon that… tried to attack you." And was it just a breeze, or why were there shivers running down Ignis' back again?

* * *

Noctis looked sour the entire breakfast. This had not been a good morning, and although Gladio and Prompto obviously had talked it out – seeing as the two now made some light small talk over their respective meals, no sign of any previous unfortunate encounters noticeable from their behavior – the weird scene upon his less than enjoyable awakening hadn't left him. That had been so out of line, like Gladio hadn't been just dreaming vividly and woken up to over-alertness; it had been like the man was possessed. He couldn't help an internal wince at the recollection of the gunner being thrown onto the ground. Hell, if Noctis could change that, he'd rather he had been at the receiving end of that himself! Or… he gulped a little; or did he? He wondered quietly if that had changed anything, had it been him, and an uncomfortable feeling twisted his insides at the answer: no. No, it wouldn't. It wouldn't have changed a goddamn thing. Other than it would have been him getting the air crushed out of him instead of the blond. And that realization brought forth another disturbing thought: if it had been the other way around, then Gladio would have attacked _him_.

And do excuse him if that thought left him with a slight grouch that morning, which was far from a good one to begin with!

The rattled feeling stuck with him. It wasn't until they eventually fell into the familiar pace of the trek that he finally relaxed and gradually let it slide a little more. Surely Gladio hadn't meant to do that, it had been an accident. And Prompto obviously didn't mind; the way the blond was around the shield, just his usual laid-back self, telling jokes and throwing high-fives, it was clear that he thought nothing of it. So why had it bothered him so much?

Noctis knew why. Deep down, he understood exactly why he took Gladio's stunt to the heart. The man was his Shield. The king's bodyguard. And had that been him instead of Prompto, it would have meant that Gladio would have lashed at him.

It was a crack on the shield Noctis couldn't swallow just like that, little as he glorified his childish reaction.

"Hello? Eos to Noct, you hearin' me, buddy?" Prompto laughed as he waved a hand teasingly in front of his face, snapping the raven out of it.

"Keep your hands to yourself," he snorted a laughter as he playfully smacked the limb away. "I'm listening."

"Are you? So what did I say?" the gunner asked, looking smug as he leaned his weight on his back leg and crossed his arms.

He had absolutely no idea, and one look in the blond's direction was enough to tell that Prompto knew that. Well, the prince wasn't going to just bow down and admit defeat if that's what he was expecting. "That Cindy's the hottest woman on the planet and that one day you'll man up enough to tell her that and that you want to-"

"Alright, enough information!" his friend jabbed him onto the shoulder playfully to shut him up before Noct had the chance to announce exactly what it was that Prompto wanted to. Laughter danced in the sky eyes at the look his friend gave at him; they were even.

"If you two are quite done," came the strategist's audibly irritated urge for them to focus, "perhaps we could carry on?"

"Uh, sorry," Prompto uttered, already sprinting into jog to catch up to Gladio, who had moved out far ahead. "C'mon, Noct!" he threw over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah…" the raven murmured before picking up pace, too.

Much of their search advanced according to the previous day's method: they were looking for anything, basically. Any signs of a large predator - fur, tracks, dump, anything to provide them with at least some sort of proof. Proof that there was a point to all this.

So, they searched.

They searched for an hour.

They searched for another four.

And it was out of sheer respect for their friend that when Gladiolus, after a day's worth of fruitless trekking and tramping, suggested that they'd move out all the way to the roots of the mountain line bordering the area that nobody blew their lid.

"Gladio." The said man let out a frustrated breath. "You know that is going too far."

"Like we have a choice, Iggy," he sighed as he turned to look at them - and it was like someone had punched him into his pelvis, with brass knuckles at that. The looks he was receiving, the crossed arms and the slight shakes of heads… they were done. And despite what he might have wanted, Gladio was, too.

"Guys. I know it's been pretty tough," he started, trying to reason, and doing his best to keep the frustration from his voice. "But this thing is big. It can roam far and wide. There are canyons and mountainsides where it is more likely to nest than out in the open. So if we just…"

"Can you just let it go?" Noctis' voice finally rose with exasperation. "It's not there, Gladio!" There was a soft exhale, a widening of amber under the scrutiny of the intense blue, and he was about to say something, but the adviser was faster,

"Noct is right, Gladio. Despite our best efforts, we haven't come across anything that would point us to the right direction. What you suggest is a downright folly; for one, we wouldn't make the two-way trip before nightfall. We have already wandered ways off from our camp as we are, we're lucky to make it back there before dusk." He held a small pause, something akin to apology flashing over his face before adding, "We don't have time for this. It is time we refer this to actual hunters."

He only noticed that his mouth had gone slack as he snapped it shut tightly, a hiss slithering around the bared teeth. His shoulders were in his ears, balled fists trembling slightly by his sides. "I'm tellin' you, there's somethin' out there," he spoke lowly with grit teeth, "You wanna take that chance?!"

"Of course not, but…"

"But you don't believe me," he snorted, shaking his head in disbelief as he scanned them over, and read the same judgment from all of their faces. Pulling a hand through his locks, his eyes slid closed, and a given-up-slash-resentful grunt left him. "Fine." Tearing the hand from his hair, he hobbled closer to them, shaking his head. "Have it yar way. But if that thing kills someone, y'all better not come cryin' about it." He didn't look at them as he turned to stomp towards the camp.

"Uh…" the gunner tried as the man passed him by, but a single glare had him backing away with an awkward shake of blond. Looking a bit lost, he exchanged a glance with the others, both men oozing a dark sentiment of their kind.

"So are we goin' or what?!" Gladio almost barked over his shoulder, and the men shared a silent moment before one by one they started after the fuming brute.

"Just great," Noctis muttered as his gaze followed their distancing backs. This wasn't how he had wanted this to go. But knowing the man's bullheadedness, what other outcome was there?

* * *

First he looked sulky. Then there was the poorly hidden disappointment. Once or twice, Prompto tried to make some small talk with the sour-puss brute, but he was quickly shot down as the replies he received were mostly grunts or hot glares of contained dissatisfaction. "Prompto!" Noctis' voice came from other side of the camp, tearing the unsure blue eyes from the warmed-up shield. "Come over here for a sec."

"Uh…" his gaze shifted back for a moment, but the look of 'what are you still doing here' prompted a quick decision. "There in a jiffy!" With one last lop-sided, awkward attempt of a grin offered for the warrior, the gunner skipped across. "What's up?"

"What're you doing?"

"Why? What did I do now?" he held his hands up in a defensive way.

"With Gladio. What're you doing?"

"Oh. Ooooh. I, uh…" his voice trailed off as he realized he didn't really have an answer.

"Look. The guy just needs to let off some steam," Noctis glanced in the said man's general direction, noting how he sat hunched over, resting his chin onto his crossed hands. "Leave him alone." A brief shock, then acceptance flashed over the blond's face, before he nodded his understanding.

"Gotcha. So, uh, can I do something?" Noctis shrugged.

"Just do whatever."

"Right. I, uh, I think I'm gonna go snap a few then. Care da join m-ay, Yar Majes-tay?" The other shook his head with a playful grin,

"Might as well get some snapshots down. You mind?"

"Not at all, man!" the blond sounded enthusiastic again. "Let's get to it!"

"Bear in mind that dinner is ready in half an hour," Ignis noted. "Try not to get lost."

"You get lost," the raven chuckled. "C'mon, Prom."

Emerald gems gazed after them for a while before turning their attention to the other pair across the campsite, and he strolled closer, noting how the shield's walls rose higher the closer he got, and a small exhale left him.

"What's up, Iggy?" The said man's brows furrowed a little at the challenge in his tone.

"I know this is important to you, but you must understand that we cannot waste any more time on this, Gladio." The dark head shook with the let-out sigh.

"I know. I jus'…" he trailed into silence; Ignis' look grew somehow harder.

"If you're still concerned about this, we'll make sure to pass this on to professionals. But we have a schedule. One that we're running tight as we are." The sound the shield made indicated that he had just swallowed whatever protests he had held on his tongue; the brunet nodded his understanding.

Averting his face, Gladiolus let out a long-held breath, "I'll take the watch tonight."

"Are you sure?"

"It's still out there, Iggy. I'm not sleepin'." He could hear the disagreement in the other's exhale, but seeing that this was the last piece of independence Gladio was allowed, he wasn't denying him that.

"If you insist."

"You bet I do." The adviser nodded quietly, sensing the end of their conversation. The men sat in silence for a while, both unsure if the other was waiting for them to say something, both deeming words pointless. Until finally Ignis rose, laying a hand on the other's shoulder, but not uttering a sound.

Strangling atmosphere had them all retire to bed early that night, if only to escape the tension, out-of-the-others'-face being the only neutral ground and safe haven available for all of them. All except the shield, who made it clear (with a few tight words) that he was going to stay out that night. Something nobody wanted to argue about, so they left him as each of them more or less tactfully excused themselves, leaving the dark man to gaze at the dying flames, his face unreadable.

* * *

Prompto felt uncomfortable. Twitching and turning in half-wakefulness, he tried to find easier rest. Heavy highlight on the tried to; the lousy mattress seemed to stick to his lightly sweat-sheened skin; he was too hot; he was too cold if he kicked off the blanket; his arm had gone numb where he had rested his head on it; turning his head wasn't really possible because Noctis' outstretched arm hogged the best of his pillow; but finally it stood that nothing he tried, no amount of tossing and turning and trying to get cozy could fix his real problem.

He needed to go to the bathroom.

An irritated hiss sounded in the darkness as that fact reminded him of the urgency of his necessity. There was no avoiding that; he had to get up, get dressed, get out into the cold. A low, bothersome moan accompanied the annoyed movement with which he finally threw off the blankets and shuffled to gather his clothes. Grunting lowly, he tore the tent flap open, and staggered out into the light. "Hey ma-!" he started with an annoyed huff, but the rest of it died on his lips as what he saw registered; there was a soft gasp, and a tremor ran down the gunner's spine.

* * *

**AN2: I hope you guys are ready for some bloodshed. 'Cause I promise it's coming.**


	7. Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: First of all, I'd like to give a shout-out to StrongheartMaid and Astrid Midnight for their enthusiasm for this. :3 Well, it's time to squeeee again, StrongheartMaid, 'cause here we go. You guys ready? Enjoy!
> 
> For the mood songs, I found some incredible stuff! If you want, click on Powerwolf - Sanctus Dominus (Imrael Production version). It should be the first result on Youtube - it's hhnnngggh!

At first, it looked just like a shadow, a shapeless clump of darkness lying in the ground. But as it slowly rose onto all fours, the gunner's heartbeats gradually grew stronger as he watched in rising terror how the bear-sized creature's midnight-color fur shone in the flickering light of the bonfire, the gleam dancing on its sides as its ribcage moved with deep breaths. Under the puffs, Prompto heard a dragged-out, low growl. Predatory, ruthless. Bloodthirsty. His teeth chattered lightly.

"Wha…" he mouthed, any noise dying in his throat, strangled out by the knot of primal panic that had settled just below his Adam's apple. The thought didn't have time to formulate into words before the familiar weight of the pistol descended into his hand, the sights trained on the back of the black head in one fluid motion. "'The hell is that?" he muttered to himself behind clenched teeth. It looked a lot like a wolf with its long nose and pointed ears, but the muscular body reminded him of a behemoth rather than any wolf he had ever seen. It didn't have a tail, either. There was just so much wrong about it, and ingloriously Prompto found his aim shaking along with his arm. He felt cold, suddenly it was suffocating, and more than anything he felt dread. This unexplainable ominousness that was looming around him all of a sudden, and seemed to manifest itself in the form of the abomination in front of him.

"Guys!" his voice broke a little at the end as he hastily kicked the tent wall, his free arm rising to support the aim, the sky-blues never leaving the creature… until unexpected movement had him blink out of reflex. His shout had made it flinch; the ferocious molten-lava eyes, the revealed canines snapping to his direction with a sharp bark of intimidation – before it dashed. In a flash of black, the mass moved to the peripheries of his vision, and instantly cursing the autonomous action that slid his eyelids closed for the critical fraction of a second, Prompto's world went dark for long enough that when his eyes finally opened after the blink that felt like an eternity, he was forced to face emptiness.

"Shit!" he hissed under his choked breath, the sky eyes frantically searching for the telltale movement. An instinct took a staggering step closer to the safety of the tent - what safety?! That _thing_ had wandered right inside the protective runes of the goddamn haven! – before he caught something in the corner of his eye that froze him to the spot. "Oh no…"

The sky blues widened as he took in the unmistakable sight of blood littering the ground by the embers of the dying campfire, and a band of frosted iron squeezed around his heart as something clicked: he didn't see Gladio.

"Oh shit…!" Forcing his limbs to co-operate, he stumbled forward, worry for his comrade besting his fear; with a few shaky leaps, Prompto fell onto his knees by the crippling sight of crimson, hoping beyond hope that it wasn't whose he thought it was. Reaching a shaking hand over the stains, he debated touching, until he withdrew it, disgust of the sight becoming almost too much. Panting lightly, the blond forced saliva down his throat to ease the scraping feeling in it. Gladio. What happened here? Where was he?! Making a horn of his hands, his voice shook a little, "Gladio?! Gladdy, where are you?!" He was greeted with silence, only disturbed by the crackle of the fire. "Shit," he hissed, before pushing himself from the ground. "Not good, not good, not good."

Prompto practically dived into the tent. "Guys!"

"Sweet Shiva, Prompto! What the hell?!" Noctis glared daggers at him, clutching his blanket against his chest protectively, the other hand shielding his vision from the overwhelming brightness of the flashlight.

"Guys. We've got a problem," the blond's voice was tight and he kept glancing outside. "Gladio's gone!"

The silence that followed was other-earthly, the only noises heard being those of beddings shuffling and Prompto's light pants. Sky blue eyes jumped between the two of them near hysterically as he observed how the words sunk.

Noctis found his voice first. "What…" he trailed off. "Whatcha mean, 'he's gone'?" he asked hollowly, almost disbelievingly.

"I mean he's gone, man! Like, puff, gone. And I… I think he's hurt." Mercifully, there was a clutch on his shoulder. Mercifully so that he didn't have to witness the look on his friend's face as his eyes snapped to gaze into the emerald gems of the strategist, the lamplight giving them a cold gleam in the dimness.

"What happened, Prompto?" Ignis started, stressing every word. The blond swallowed thickly.

"It's… I saw this weird wolf-thing," he uttered, knowing himself how outlandish he sounded, but what could he do? "Right outside. And," he gulped as if to summon the courage, "and no Gladio."

"A 'wolf-thing'?" Ignis didn't sound pleased. "Within the haven?" Suddenly his face faltered slightly as he felt a brush of air in the back of his neck. Like a soft breeze, or a… a breath… like the one in his dream… it was faint and it was distant, but Ignis could have sworn that from somewhere came a faraway howl of a wolf...

He was yanked out of his nightmarescape by the panic-laced voice, "What I'm tellin' you, man! Hey, I've never seen one like that before, I dunno what it was, all I know is, it was big! Like a fucking truck, man!" the blond prattled, shaking the other's hand off. "C'mon! We've gotta help Gladio!"

Something about the way Prompto said 'help' made their stomachs jump in an unpleasant way. "You mean he's…" The gunner didn't need to hear the rest of it; nodding solemnly, he gave them both a look that pleaded for them to hurry.

Ignis and Noctis were up and dressed in approximately twenty-two seconds.

* * *

"Are you sure it went this way?" Noctis tossed over his shoulder, never once slowing down as he ran amongst the undergrowth.

"As sure as I'll ever be," Prompto huffed one-and-a-half steps behind him. "I didn't exactly see clearly, you know." Grunting in frustration, the prince reached a hand back long enough for the dagger to materialize, before he flung it into the darkness, disappearing in a flurry of crystal shards and cold light. "Noct!"

"I'll check up ahead," came the fainter voice from where a speck of light moved in the distance.

"Noct! We should stay together," the oldest scolded his reckless ward. "We don't even know what it is that we're looking for!" How Ignis managed to keep the chest-crushing worry that he was feeling from bleeding into his tone was a small scale miracle in itself. He was more than a little annoyed with his young liege's infamous impatience. Filled with all the expertise the man was known for, Ignis' tone held nothing but authority, and despite the looming apprehension, a small swell of satisfaction leaped in his heart as the distancing spotlight stilled to shuffle on the spot in an agitated halt as the prince motioned for them to move it.

"'The hell took you so long?! We've gotta–!" the raven almost spat as he was already itching to bolt again, when a firm grip yanked his arm borderline painfully; a small yelp was let out unguarded, and the half-pissed, half-incredulous storm clouds were locked with Ignis' cool fury.

"Not so fast, Noct! You think rushing into the unknown is worth the risk?" his eyes narrowed, the fingers digging into the cloth. "I, I understand that you're worried, Your Highness. But, throwing yourself into danger isn't going to help Gladio."

It was the tone. Stuttering and tight, it sounded so wrong, coming from the adviser, and a quiet gasp fell from the thin lips at the look in the eyes, and Noctis understood he had never seen the man this close to crumbling. The flicker of panic betrayed the collectedness he tried to hold onto; Ignis was within an inch from coming undone, and somehow that thought did nothing but add to his unrest. It wasn't something Noctis was sure he wanted to see. Ever.

"Ugh," he breathed out, averting his eyes. "What do we do, Ignis?" the young voice had a pleading edge to it.

"Well," Ignis inhaled deeply, taking his hand back to fix his glasses instead; a small attempt to gather himself as he tried not to look at the desolate appearance of the other. "First of all, we don't panic. If what Prompto saw is indeed the beast we've been hunting for the best of two days, we can rest assured that it is aware of our presence. We should tread carefully," he fixed the younger man with a look that spoke volumes, the prince visibly squirming under the scrutiny.

"Noct," he sighed, "Gladio isn't just any mediocre ranger. You yourself are more than aware of that. Have faith in him." Noctis wasn't sure, but somehow it sounded like Ignis was trying to convince himself as much as the others, and there was a sharp 'tsk' from the prince. Each word brought forth a bit more bitter taste in his mouth. Not because any of it would have been a lie, just because… because Noctis knew all that, and still... still something like this had happened. He couldn't help his teeth clenching; he had seen the blood by the fire. It hadn't been just a few droplets, it had been splatters. Irregular blotches left behind from a gush when something was torn... He shook his head firmly to disturb himself from wandering down that path. There was nothing there he wanted to acknowledge, he knew.

"Now, I suggest we keep it down," a hand raked through the disheveled brunet hair, "and stick together. Remember, we are looking for Gladio, that is our priority. Eliminating the creature is secondary to that." The younger men nodded in unison, both pacing in an antsy way, glancing around for anything that might try to ambush them from the darkness.

"We done here now?" Noctis half-voiced his mutter. "Good, then let's go!"

The leaves rustled softly as three pairs of combat boots crunched them under their soles. Moisture had begun to gather, glistening on the leaves as their torches bore into the night; the three men slunk deeper into the thicket. Prompto had drawn his gun back, restless fingers gliding along the drum, every once in a while ghosting over the trigger as if to make sure it was still there. Around them, the forest grew thicker and harder to advance quickly, much to their displeasure as the bushes built up an impenetrable wall of weaved branches, forcing them to look for a way around.

They made way in near silence, muttered whispers and hand signals almost the only communication between them as Noctis led them on as hastily as they could go. The air around them hung like a lead haze, heavy and smothering and impregnable as they wandered deeper, no sign of life other than a few hoots of owls and an occasional shuffling sound as something tiny fled from their way. Each noise had them on the edge, the tiniest movement of air had them alert, ready to summon their weapons at a heartbeat's notice. A part of the raven almost wished something would come, attack them fair and square so that he'd be rid of this gnawing apprehension. The constant on-the-edge was creeping up his throat in dark tendrils of fear, and the prolonged search did little to calm his nerves. If anything, it gave him plenty of time to begin to expect the worst. If that blood was any indication, the shield was doing less than alright. He had to force down a thick bead of panic at the thought of the darkest outcome possible; it had been almost an hour, and who knew how much longer before Prompto woke them up. If the wound was still bleeding… A shaky intake was drawn, along with a dismissive shake of head: no! Gladio was alive, he told himself firmly. He had to be.

* * *

Light puffs of moisture clung to the leaves at each near-silent exhale. The slobber-coated lips pulled back in a barely audible snarl as its nostrils picked up the scent of adrenaline. Crouching amongst the shades, a low growl rumbled in its lungs as the sounds of the humans got closer. One with the shadow, concealed by the night – let them come. The prey made it easy. Too easy.

The sounds of intermitted breaths and crunching feet on the forest bed, the prey was so noisy. One of them, the one smelling like smoke and musk, said something, the sound of it faintly familiar somehow; a brief moment of confusion until it was overpowered by Hunger, and it lowered its head as it slid amongst the darkness, hays bending, but not a sound made. They came closer. The prey was afraid. It _reeked_ of fear.

The same one, the one smelling like smoke, cried out as the dark form vaulted into the feeble light; the prey didn't stand a chance. Pushing it down with hardly any effort, it dived in for the kill, only to slam against something else. Letting out a roar, it tore it from its way, its mouth watering at the burst of adrenaline and sweat emitting from the bound one. Relishing the scent, it bared the fangs to the form beneath it, hearing it make a sound, a squeak, before it sunk them into the flesh, the prey screaming as the blood gushed onto its tongue.

* * *

"Look out!"

Ignis' warning was millennia too late. His world seemed to slow down; like in a dream, he watched helplessly how the dark form sprung from the shadows – no sound, no sign – before slamming against Noct and pinning him down, the massive weight holding him like a butterfly on display.

"Nooooct!"

Noctis heard the gunner's voice, but it sounded like it was coming from somewhere far away. Air was crushed out of him as he was thrown down; his vision swam for a fraction of a second as his head reeled. He felt the heavy pressure settling onto his chest, each breath becoming hard-earned and laborious. Instincts kicking into overdrive, the shield materialized to separate himself from the jaws a mere blink before he would have been done for, the powerful impact resonating along his entire arm and upper body as it took the blow. The weight on his chest and the lack of oxygen was making him dizzy; it was hard to focus, he could feel his strength waning already. And his heart sunk for good at the deafening roar above him. It was the sound of his impending doom. A howl of a hunter, a predator closing in for the kill. A strangled cry swelled in his throat as he felt more than saw the creature reaching over his feeble defenses, his last line of protection torn from his hand, and he was left to gaze into the midnight face and the blazing eyes of molten amber.

Amber.

The raven's heart skipped a beat as he made out the feebly visible scar over the beast's left eye, and in the cold light of his jacket torch, it almost seemed like the fur on the creature's chest was somehow lighter, grayish rather than black, forming a vaguely bird-shaped imprint. The sound that left him was shaky and disbelieving, "Gladio…?"

All the answer he got was his own screaming as the creature gave out a brief huffed growl before a searing pain erupted in his left shoulder. His legs kicked instinctively in a vain attempt to buck it off him. Darkness teased the back of his shutting-down mind as the canines sunk deeper. From the midst of his shrill cries, they could make out the man's name, and it was like the beast had ceased for an instant; the jaws loosening a fraction, the weight seeming to pull away ever so slightly.

The gunshot that rang out in the air was loud and penetrating. Seeing his opening, Prompto jumped at the chance. It wasn't a clean hit; the bullet merely scraped it, but it was enough to send the creature flailing with an enraged roar as blood stained the dark fur of its forehead. Thrashing its head, it backed away blindly before, with one last snarl and a threatening bark, it turned to flee into the shadows.

"No, you don't, you sonofa…" the gunner muttered under his breath as he was already three steps in to go after the fiend when Ignis' shout froze him on the spot,

"Prompto, no!" With a shaky gulp, he came to an abrupt halt mid-motion, his gaze snapping in the direction of the adviser, the man kneeling on the ground next to a dark, spasming form; a sharp hiss of dispiriting slithered from between his clenched teeth before he bolted. The gun was almost flung from his hand as he fell onto all fours next to the two, the gravity of the situation dawning on him instantly as he took in the state of the other.

Noctis' eyes were squeezed shut, water prickling in his eyelashes, his features twisted into an agonized snarl. Trembling hand was clutched over his shoulder, blood staining the fingers as it trickled over them and seeped through his jacket, and Prompto had to force down the lump at the sight of that. It was a lot. The raven's gatling gun breaths were shallow and shuddery, each exhale carrying out his suffering.

Deaf to any other sound but his own blood hammering in his ears, Ignis pried the panic-stiffened fingers away as gently as he could before tearing the fabric out of the way, the action eliciting a fresh cry from the raven as fibers clung to the wound, irritating it further; something he almost came to regret as he saw the skin underneath.

The shoulder was torn, there was no better word for it. He couldn't see the wound clearly to determine exactly how deep it was, but the amount of blood was enough of an indication. Feeling the trembles heightening as he begun to enter into shock, a desperate fear gripped Ignis for the first time since His Highness' accident back when he was just a child, the one that had claimed the life of his nanny and scarred him for life. A blood-stopping, paralyzing fear that he was going to lose him. "Noct! Noct, stay with us!" Two fingers tapped against the clammy cheek.

"Iggs, what's happening?!" Prompto's cry was barely audible. His own breaths growing near hyperventilating, the adviser could only watch as the man slipped out of consciousness. "What's happening to him?!"

"His body is going into shock," he hissed as he quickly pressed both hands into the wound to hold back the blood flow. "Do we have any potions?!"

"Uh…"

"Do we, Prompto?!" the emerald flames snapped at the gunner, demanding to hear the answer he wanted.

"Y-yeah. Hol' on a sec…" the blond's voice shook as he felt around for his pockets before his fingers brushed what he so desperately longed to find. "Here!" The sky eyes gazed at the other like he was asking for directions. A single nod, and the blond gulped as his eyes shifted over to the red-smeared hand of the raven, his own shaking as he reached for it. "D-don't worry, Noct," he gulped. "We've gotcha buddy." His hand almost slipped as it held the bloodied palm before he carefully slipped the vial between the limp fingers. "We've gotcha…" Gently, he squeezed his own hands around Noctis', pressing until he heard the faint cracking sound, and the familiar glow surrounded the raven. Holding his breath as if he was afraid that it might not work if he made a single sound to disturb it, the blond watched mesmerized as the ethereal glow shimmered over the mutilation before the wound slowly closed, leaving behind raw skin and the disturbing jaw-shaped contusion. Only then did Prompto let out a shaky breath he had been holding.

"Did it… work?" he looked at the adviser. "Iggy? Did it work?" The said man didn't look at him, the solemn eyes fixed on the raven, a single shrug the only indication that he had heard him.

"I… don't know, Prompto," and the blond's chest grew cold. Ignis' tone had been hollow, so hollow. Like the man was about to give up. "All we can do now is wait."

* * *

***distant howling***


	8. Gladiolus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm sorry for the wait, guys! This took me forever. I dunno what's with me, I've just had a major block with this story for the past week. I've planned the events for at least three or four more chapters, I just have the hardest time getting them done. =.=' I think I'm just growing tired with this one. It's the longest continuing story I've written so far. Maybe I just need a short brain reboot, lol. Anyone got any requests, any wishes? I'm listening. Anyway, apologizing in advance that the next chapter might be a bit of a wait.
> 
> Anyways, here's chapter 8, and lemme just say, I'm really cranking up the angst factor here. So it's either sink of swim from this point forward, lol. I hope you'll like it.
> 
> Beta read by Elillierose
> 
> Mood music for this one... I really don't have any real theme song to go with this, but in case anyone's interested, these are some of the inspirational songs I listened to for this. Feel free to check them out if you're curious:
> 
> Omnia - I Don't Speak Human; The Prodigy - Run with the Wolves; Miracle of Sound - Wake the White Wolf; Battle Beast - Touch in the Night. Although, the lyrics of the last one might give a little warped idea of the point of this story, lol. I promise I have zero intention of turning this into Beauty and Beastiality, haah. Although I'm confident that there'd be an audience for that stuff, too. But it's a different story, lol. Not this one.
> 
> Now, suffer.

The raven's breaths had evened out, the pain-distorted features smoothed out into those of oblivion. The potion had been enough to close the wound, but the young man was still out cold, his face an ill shade of white and a light sheen of sweat on his skin.

Ignis hadn't taken his eyes off his ward for a second. Watching him like a hawk, the adviser was keen for any indication that he was about to either regain consciousness, or that his condition was getting worse. As color slowly returned to the other's cheeks, the adviser finally let out a long breath.

Next to them, Prompto sat on his knees, slender fingers clenching the fabric of his pants so tightly his knuckles were white, the orbs of ocean downcast and looking at nothing. The events not ten minutes ago replayed and replayed in his head like a macabre movie, one he'd rather pause, eject and bury deep so that he never had to see it again. If only he were so lucky. Again and again he was forced to listen to the agonized cries, to remember the screaming panic on Ignis' face as the memory haunted him. The hiss that slithered out through his teeth was sharp and desolate as he glanced around warily for anything trying to ambush them. "What do we do, Iggs?"

Knowing what the young man meant, the adviser simply sighed. It was a dilemma he himself had yet to rid himself of. The green eyes finally rising from the dark form, his gaze lingered in the direction he assumed the shield to have gone. Knowing what must be done, knowing where his allegiance lied didn't ease the ache the resolution brought. "Well, we cannot leave Noct. So that really leaves us with little choice," it sounded like it was difficult to say that out loud.

"Yeah..." he fell silent for a while; that was the exact answer he had expected, and yet the very same he had feared to hear. The intake was shuddery as the implications of that dawned to him in full. And at the same time, there was acid in his mouth; acid that needed to get out, "Hey…" he waited to have his attention before continuing, "You heard it too, right?" The green eyes locked with the ocean, a bit wider than usual, and the man nodded faintly.

"Yes."

"He called out to Gladio…" Prompto's voice sounded like it was torn between sympathetic and sad; the other's nod reflected the same mixed feelings. Something about that, about the way it had happened, how it had _sounded_ … it didn't sit well with them.

"Yes, he did."

It was with a quiet gulp that the blond decided to voice the burning question on his tongue he had debated asking, "Do you think he's alive?" Ignis' brow arched, his lips tightening. Soon, he let out a resigned breath, though, and shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly.

"I hope so, Prompto." It wasn't a lie. But, the other alternative Ignis didn't dare to even think about.

Their heed was snapped back down by the small movement and a quiet groan. Small utterances and head turns, until the stormy eyes eventually cracked open, the prince blinking a few times, his brows frowned in confusion. "Specs…?" he muttered as if asking to confirm.

"Yes, Noct. It's me." He allowed him a moment. "How're you feeling?"

The prince chuckled darkly, "Just… great." A pained hiss left him at the slightest attempt to move his shoulder, though, and his face settled into a grimace. "Sonofa… ugh."

"Hold still, man," Prompto's hand came to press him back down gently. "You, uh, took a little rough treatment back there." The gunner's lip tugged up a little as he felt the opposition surrender under his palm, and the prince settled back down with another small groan. "Sorry about that, I… I guess there's only so much a potion can do, you know," he said a little apologetically. Noctis brushed it off with a small head shake before the intense blue eyes rested onto his maimed shoulder, and there was a shocked gasp. Misinterpreting the gesture, Ignis cut in,

"Noct?" He had to repeat himself, a bit louder, before the midnight eyes narrowed at the adviser in bewilderment. Pushing his glasses up, Ignis' lids came down as if he was reluctant to answer the unvoiced demand, "How much do you remember?"

It was almost like the raven was talking to himself when he uttered incredulously, "He bit me…"

The adviser sounded a bit perplexed, "That's right. It seems that it sneaked up to ambush us from the shrub–"

"Where is he?!" Noctis shouted as he was scrambling up from the ground, fresh pain shooting up from his shoulder at the jerking motions. With a fierce hiss, Prompto's obstructing hand was pushed aside. "C'mon, we've gotta finim..." he slurred.

"Hey, take it easy, Noct…"

"Leggo of me. It's fine," he jerked himself free and stumbled to get up; the movement brought another stinging wave of white heat that wiped his mind blank, the moment leaving him panting through grit teeth in an attempt to ride it out. Putting the pain aside the best he could, Noctis pushed himself onto his feet, ignoring the protests from the other two.

"Are you sure you're up for it, Noct?" Ignis' tone told exactly how pleased he was with the reckless monarch-to-be's adamant attitude to play the hero. "Your injury was rather dire, and the potion has merely mended the damage. The pain–"

"I'm fine," he assured timidly, although he still panted lightly. "Where'd he go?"

"Where'd who go?" Prompto crossed his arms as he got up, fixing his friend with a pointed look.

"Who do you think?" he snapped back. "Gladio!" The blond's face fell at that, and he hesitated before exchanging a look with the brunet.

"Dude, you sure you didn't hit your head or somethin'? Gladio's, you know," he settled on the word, "missin'."

A glint of rage flashed across the dark eyes as the prince bit his teeth, looking exasperated, "No! You don't get it. That thing, I think it _is_ Gladio!"

Those words seemed to stun the men as the shocked expressions slowly surfaced. Jaw-slacked, Prompto's lips moved in the form of the shield's name but nothing came out. Until finally, "S-say what? C'mon, Noct. That's not funny…"

"Do I look like I'm joking?!" the other spat, but it was mortified and confused as much as irritated and impatient. The dark eyes were cluttered with disbelief.

"What makes you say that?" Ignis jabbed in, the gears already in motion in his head as the green bore into the prince like he was trying to read his mind, to determine where his assertions were coming from.

The raven shook his head, "When it attacked me, I saw… I saw its face. It has a scar, just like the one on Gladio. And," he gulped, the next words he was going to say tasting bad on his tongue, "the fur on its chest, it's different. It sorta… looks like his tattoo."

The gasps were quiet, timid, denying as the news set in. And it was with increasing self-disgust that Prompto's hand once more came to know the familiar weight of the pistol as he picked it up from the dirt. His eyes like saucers, the blond locks swayed. "No way, man… that's way too friggin' weird!"

"You don't need to tell me," Noctis huffed as he turned towards the direction they had been heading for. "C'mon."

"Uhm, a-are you sure it's a good idea, man?" the gunslinger visibly grimaced. "Dude, we don't even know-"

"You stay here if you want."

"Noct-"

"What?! What do you want me to say, Ignis? That we just head back for the camp and leave him out there?! To maybe sip a little tea with some biscuits when he could be fucking dying out there?!" He fell quiet suddenly, enraged pants hissing in his teeth as he glared at the both of them, the stormy eyes daring anyone else who still doubted him to either speak up now or shut the hell up. "We done here?!"

The said man had observed the eruption in taken-aback silence. Given, it didn't exactly please him to read from Noct's demeanor that he was going to do this regardless of what anyone told him, the stubborn idiot. However, the hope that had dimmed in his heart ignited anew, the hope of retrieving Gladio – 'alive,' he added in his mind. They'd have him back, and after that, Ignis decided, they would pack their bags and be out of here as fast as the Regalia could take them. "Very well, Noct," he nodded, catching up to the young man impatiently shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "But, I'm going first." All the reply he received as he gently pushed past the prince was a huff as he threw his good hand in the air, do-whatever-you-like fashion.

"Fine, can we just move it?" he sulked as he turned to Prompto, a brow raised in question. "You comin'?" His answer wasn't what he had expected. The blond fidgeted under the demanding gaze, avoiding his eyes as he followed quietly, looking like a beaten puppy; Noctis' tone softened. "Prom?"

"Y-yeah?" Forced to look up, the blues met for a brief moment before the blond averted his again, but it had been enough for his friend to catch the pained look in them; guilt panged in his chest.

"Uhm, sorry, I… I didn't mean to..." he trailed off, turning away to hide his embarrassment.

"Huh? Oh, it's… it's nothin'."

Prompto was crazy if he actually expected Noctis to buy that. "Bullshit," he snorted. "It's clearly not nothing. So, let's hear it."

"Uh…" his eyes trailed to the ground again. "I just…" his voice faded as the man waged an inward battle. "Noct? Do you… really think it's Gladio?"

Sensing the reason for the blond's unease, Noctis shrugged sympathetically, hissing quietly at the small sear of irritation. "I dunno, Prom," he sighed. "Sounds pretty out there, I suppose."

"Uh-huh," the gunner chuckled humorlessly, but still didn't look at him, and Noctis' eyes were drawn onto the nervous way he twirled his gun, constantly toying with it like it was a hot potato.

"Prom?"

"Y-yeah?" Following the gaze, the gunner realized what Noctis was looking, and he dismissed the weapon to stuff his hands into his pockets; aiming for casual, but only coming out as caught-red-handed. The furrowing of the dark brows spoke volumes; his arms crossed over his chest.

"What's eating at you?" A terrible choice of words, he understood, when he took in the reaction. The exhale was strangled, like the blond had tried and failed to hold it back. Twice his mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. Then, an exhale and what can only be called dismissive headshake.

"Nevermind." That held a note of finality, and to his chagrin, Noctis understood that that's all he would be getting out of the blond. Shrugging, he let his arms fall to his sides with a quiet sigh of frustration. It annoyed him, knowing that something was obviously wrong - way wrong, given the other's behavior - and being unable to do anything about it. But, if Prompto didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to pry.

"Fine. Have it your way," he shook his head with a bit more sting than he had intended, and regretted it immediately at the brief look of hurt that flashed over the fair features. His mouth opened to take that back, to apologize, to anything, but the cat had gotten his tongue, too. What came out was a pissed grunt as he turned his back and walked away, mentally kicking himself. "Let's go." When the steps behind him were not in a hurry to follow him, Noctis wanted to just disappear.

* * *

Prompto hadn't said a word for almost half an hour. It seemed almost obscene. If Noctis hadn't been so vexed by the blond's obliqueness, it would have worried him.

The break of dawn was approaching, the lighter shades of blue were already chasing away the black velvet, stars fading from the view as the gradients slowly reached over the land.

Since the first assault, they had hardly heard a twig snap within earshot, not to mention seen anything but dew-glistened foliage and each other's backs as they shifted their places in the loose line formation they were going in. It was like drifting through a dream, the world around them seemed unreal, like it was a dark mirage, not really alive, just a façade to cast the illusion. The knot of worry twisting the raven's insides was getting unbearable. "Anything?" Maybe four yards ahead of him, Ignis didn't turn to face him as he shook his head. The knot squeezed a little tighter.

"Wait…" Ignis muttered; they could _hear_ the creasing of his brow. Waiting impatiently for the man to elaborate, the other two were ready to bolt at a heartbeat's notice. "Over there." The gloved fingers pointed behind a curtain of leaves where in the faint dawn light, they could make out a dark form, lying in the ground. A form the size of a man.

Even in the dimness they could tell it wasn't moving.

Even from afar they noted that the form wasn't breathing.

"No!"

"Noct, wait-!" Ignis' hand closed around thin air. Noctis had pushed past the strategist, closing the distance to the body; his leaps slowed down into lazy jogging as he got closer, however, before coming to a halt, the prince leaning hands to knees as he bent over to ease his worked-up breaths.

Upside was, it wasn't whom he had feared it to be.

As for the downside, he didn't think this discovery was much better.

He had to stifle a slight gag.

The pelt of the coeurl was soiled with the blood, the soft fur sticking together where the grime cluttered into filthy clumps. The long gash on its side had bled immensely; the wound had never fully coagulated when the beast had breathed its last. But the worst part was still the neck, snapped cleanly like a twig. The feline's head was twisted into an odd angle, the dimmed eyes half lidded as its mouth hung open, frozen into the suffering look.

"A territorial dispute, perhaps?" Ignis came up to him.

"Could be." The prince's tone said what the lips didn't: he had a pretty good hunch about what had happened here. He just didn't want to be right. "Let's keep going."

"Agreed," the strategist nodded, fixing a signifying look at his ward as they stepped shoulder-to-shoulder. "At least we know now that we're headed in the right direction."

"Are we just gonna leave it?" Prompto sounded a bit incredulous. He had crouched next to the fallen animal, sorrowfully taking in the dullness of the once luminous eyes.

"I don't think there is anything we can do," Ignis corrected his glasses. "Mother Nature can be a cruel mistress, indeed."

"Right. 'Nature'," the gunner muttered solemnly as he straightened up before voicing what he knew everyone was thinking, "You guys think that… Gladio did this?" The silence that resulted was filled, the others looking like they had just been punched. Into the groin.

"Let's just go," Noctis sounded like he just wanted to escape the answer. Sharing his discomfort, the others didn't push it as they followed him in tense silence.

Lightness crept into the woods rapidly. Before they knew it, they could see clearly again, the daylight easing their minds at least that much. The first rays filtering through the branches lit the thicket ablaze with the glimmer of moisture on millions of leaves, and despite the gravity, Prompto was honestly sorry he hadn't brought his camera. It was a view straight out of a fairytale, magical in its deceptive beauty. It wouldn't be but a few minutes before the dew dried, he knew, so he treasured the moment in silence, archived the beautiful side of this memory for himself to cherish.

His fragile moment was perturbed with the worry emanating from certain someone, however. If it had been visible, Noctis' apprehension would have hung about him like an ominous aura, so thick they could almost taste it. It had been almost two hours. The man was reaching his breaking point.

That's why, when the new shade in the distance made itself known to them, Noctis didn't dare to hope before they made it close enough for the man to tell. For him to recognize the familiar brawny figure and the dark locks, the ink on the tanned skin and the dark attire of the Crownsguard.

Fuck Ignis. Fuck his warnings. Giving the metaphorical finger to the potential danger, Noctis was gone in a flash of blue, getting to his friend the only thing on his mind. "Gladio?" He was on his knees next to the shield, already turning him onto his back, teeth gritting against the jolt of ache brought by the action – and the wave of relief washing over him as he noted the steady rise and fall of the ribcage was only temporary. As the intense blue moved higher, a cold hand closed itself around his heart as he took in the dried blood smearing the face and hair. There were marks that looked like scratches on the man's chest, too, and a bead slid down his throat at the recollection of the coeurl. The width of the claw prints was a disturbingly accurate match. The knot in his stomach was strangling him.

"Noct?!"

"How is he?!" He jumped a little at the voices. He had almost forgotten about the others, the surge of emotions having detached him momentarily.

Ignis didn't wait for a reply before taking up the reins. Taking in the overall appearance, he went straight for the pulse; a lip tugged up with the satisfied hum when he felt the strong beats. Then, he went to inspect the head wound, and he couldn't help the emerald wandering into the direction of the gunner.

Still stood on shaky legs a couple of steps from sight, Prompto's lip quivered as he stared at the haunting red splayed over the dark features. Bile gathered in his gut as he made out the scrape, distinguishable as one left by a bullet. Gulping, he felt the gaze on himself and the sky color shifted to meet the two jewels. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I-I didn't…" The second pair of eyes was also drawn onto the gunner, as if the origin of his shakenness had only just now dawned to his friend.

"Prompto…"

"You did what you had to." Ignis' tone was firm. Firm and convincing, not a hint of reprimand or remorse.

"Huh?"

"You were doing your job, Prompto. You were protecting Noct." It held a tone of dismissal for now as the adviser's attention was back on the man. "You are not at fault."

"Ho-how can you say that?! I fucking _shot_ him, Iggs!" the blond cried out, his voice drenched with guilt.

"And what would have happened if you hadn't?" Ignis' piercing gaze was back.

That shut him up. Air left Prompto in a shaky breath as the other alternative crystallized, and his lips squeezed into a tight line that still trembled. He didn't say a word as he came to sit with them, his gaze on his lap and posture hunched.

"Prompto…" Noctis' voice faded away at the miserable sight of the other. He didn't know what to say, he didn't trust his words anymore. They had made the situation worse once already. He didn't need that happening again. So, he, too, averted his gaze into the dirt, finding himself halfway hoping that the strangling feeling constricting his throat would just finish the job.

With a soft snort of empathy, Ignis refocused onto his task at hand. Ignoring the crimson the best he could, he patted the cheek, "Gladio?" He repeated the calls patiently until he felt the dearly welcomed stir under his fingers. "Goodness…"

"Ugh…" A strained breath sounded before the flutter of dark lashes, and slowly, _slowly_ the ambers cracked open. "Hey…" the man croaked. "Where's… the truck? Did anyone… happen to catch its license plate?" he chuckled deliriously. "I'd… have a word wit' 'em…." After a few blinks, the details of the familiar faces sharpened up enough to make out the bewildered expressions, the pain behind their eyes. The dark brows drew closer, a stinging ache in his head at that. "Ugh… Wha- the 'ell's the ma'er with y'all?" he groaned. "Y'all look like you've seen a ghost."

The grimaces he received had his pulse creeping up. The sickening feeling that something was wrong – very, _very_ wrong – twisted his insides, and suddenly something registered. Something that had his breath hitching. They were not at the camp anymore.

A jerking motion to sit up, a new flash of pain momentarily blinding him as a surge of fire exploded across his forehead again. "Argh…" Intakes were hisses, eyes squeezed closed in order to ride it out. "Wha-what happened?" was ground out, the screaming worry behind it apparent still. "Where're we?!"

"Easy," Noct reassured him, but the tone held an edge. An edge that set all the alarms off in the warrior. A hand rose to the throbbing, and a soft gasp was heard as the calloused fingers brushed the crusting blood. Disbelievingly he withdrew the hand, eyes widening as he took in the color, before shifting to the others, looking lost as if he was asking for an explanation.

"'The hell happened?" he demanded in bewilderment.

The three seemed to shrink under the interrogation in the man's eyes. Prompto's gaze was in his knees, his shoulders moving with heavy breaths, but he didn't make a sound other than the soft breaths. Ignis' mouth was a thin line, a rare crease adorning his brow. The amber gaze went through them all before finally settling for Noctis, not as the last resort, but because Noctis seemed to be the only one who was going to talk.

Well, eventually. The raven's expression faltered, mouth opening and closing a few times as his eyes wandered, the youth trying to figure out what to say, how to say it. "You remember that beast?" he finally started. Slowly he went over the overall: what Prompto had seen at the camp, how they had done the math on two plus two, and how they had chased him. Throughout the story, the look on the shield's face had grown more alarmed, the shocked ambers shifting between his hands and the other. By the time Noctis was done, the silence of the other men had deepened. Gladiolus noticed it easily, and the dark brows neared each other even more.

"That's not all, is it?" he demanded darkly, fearing what it was that Noct wasn't telling. "There's something else, isn't there?" The widening of the prince's eyes and the soft gasp were enough of an answer. Mulling the words on his tongue, his lip trembling slightly, Gladiolus near whispered, "What'd I do?"

Noctis' heart sunk further at those words. He knew he couldn't keep the information from the shield forever, and he didn't want to… but somehow, this still came too fast. It was too brutal; he had wanted to maybe postpone it a little, maybe find a better way to break it to him. To protect him from the news. Or, perhaps he had wanted to protect them both, give them both a little more time. For saying it aloud would make it a reality, and now as he was facing the man, he wasn't sure – not sure at all – that he was ready to accept that, either. But nevermind that, it was too late. As the silent demand of the other bore into him like hot needles, Noctis knew he was done. Gladio wasn't going to let him live it down. He was going to wring it out of them if he had to.

"You attacked Noct." The said man's mouth snapped shut, the words stolen from his tongue and then morphed into their most excruciating form. It was Prompto's voice, and it was filled with anguish. His head was still bowed, the blond refusing to face him.

"Prompto–?!"

The shocked gasp coming from the shield was all-consuming. Sounding from deep down, it carried out his raw revolt as his face morphed into a look of denial. "No…" He shook his head as he vaguely remembered a voice shrieking his name in his mind. Pained. Familiar. The amber met the intense blue, long enough for the horrified man to take in the silent heartbreak in them, before his gaze trailed lower, to the ruined garment and the bruising beneath. Gladio's jaw slacked.

"Can't be. I…" he trailed into shocked silence, suddenly tasting blood again. His stomach churned unpleasantly, he had to stifle an audible gag as disgust rose to the back of his mouth. His lips were quivering under the hand clasped over his mouth, his gaze wandering on and off the prince, the thought of facing him - hell, to be in his presence - suddenly just on the other side of bearable. There was that treacherous burn of rage and blasphemy behind his eyes, and the stiff grunt was barely enough to hold it back. Gladio's heart fluttered in his chest, the pulse thundering in his ears deafening against the weighted silence.

"I'm afraid it's true," Ignis sighed, heavily, like the words themselves were poisonous. "Although it is clear you were not yourself. Obviously, the beast is far from lucid," he tried to maintain his professionalism as he pushed his glasses up. "And thus, assuming it to be but a wild fiend, I'm afraid that we overdid ourselves in our measures of subduing you."

"In English, please?" Gladio sighed with frustration, rolling his eyes.

"I shot you."

All eyes were on the blond, all of them taken-aback. The sky blues were tinted with glistening, and fixed on the amber.

"Prompto?"

"I'm sorry. It's just–," he started, his voice hitching.

Ignis shook his head a little, "You shouldn't put all the blame–"

"No, it was me, Ignis, I pulled the trigger!" he snipped at the man. "It, it was the only thing I could think of. I-I didn't know, I…" His rambling was interrupted by a deep inhale through the nose, before he opened his eyes again, holding the dumbstruck gaze. "Sorry."

Taking deep breaths, understanding what the gunner was on about, Gladio's eyes shifted to glance at his tainted fingers again. "So that's why…?"

"Yeah," he whispered, that being the best he managed.

The shield was quiet for a long moment, his lips a thin line as he weighed his words. Then, "You did good."

"Huh?!" Prompto blurted, before a humorless chuckle fell from his bitten lips. "C'mon, Gladdy. You can't make jokes like that... that's cruel..." He was silenced by the look the shield gave him. Mixed it might have been, filled with confusion and denial and oh so much guilt… and yet Prompto still saw a different emotion behind it. It was gratitude.

"I'm not kiddin'," the shield shook his head. "If anyone poses a threat to Noct, Prompto, you are to take them out. It's your duty, as a Crownsguard. Even if it's one of our own." He left unvoiced what his mind supplied: 'even if it is me'.

The small, choked sound the blond made as he nodded his head was his only reply. The words like an iron curtain, the men were left with uncomfortable silence, the gravity of the situation wrenching their hearts, and yet none of them knew how to deal with it. Noctis' heart hammered in his chest so loudly he was sure it was going to break out of his ribcage. This was his fault. All of it. They should have never come here, he should have never agreed to help, this wasn't their business. They'd be somewhere far away, enjoying themselves and having a few laughs if only he hadn't taken on the job to look for those damned tags! And here's where that had landed them. Small puffs were moist with the wetness that had gathered behind his eyes but he refused to let that show. He wanted to hold onto at least an idea of dignity he still had left.

His train of thought derailed majestically with the deep voice, "Noct?" Blinking, he met the shield's gaze, noting a softness in it Noctis didn't think he had ever seen before. "How're you feelin'?" The underlying question was audible in the voiced veneer; what he was asking was, 'Did I hurt you badly?' His gulp was involuntary.

"I'm fine," he muttered, averting his eyes.

"Doesn't look like 'fine' to me," he said apologetically. "Sorry." The blues returned to meet his, then the prince turned to hide them again, shaking his head.

"What're you on about?" he forced a chuckle, but it lacked feel. "It's not your fault."

"I heard you."

Noctis' eyes widened, that brief moment coming back to him. The moment the beast had stilled, the weight withdrawing from him before Prompto's bullet had torn the world apart. It was hazy, just blotches; he remembered pain, mainly, but he also remembered the man's name rasping out of him. And it had stilled. Gladio had stilled. He gasped, a shudder running down his spine. Turning back to the older, his mouth open to speak but the words weren't there. He was feeling hollow, empty. How dare Gladio say something like that? What was he supposed to make of it?!

The shield sighed, "Look. I don't know what happened…" he started but it trailed into silence. "I just…!" he grunted, his teeth gritting into a snarl – a look so wolfish it sent another shiver teasing Noctis' nerves, and he had to remind himself that that _thing_ , whatever the hell it was, it wasn't Gladio! It may have shared his body – a disturbing enough of a thought as it was – but it wasn't him!

It wasn't Gladio that had attacked him.

It wasn't his Shield that had tried to kill him.

The raven sighed; he just kept telling himself that.

* * *

**AN2: So Gladio got his second scar a bit differently. I promise I'm not done roasting Prompto over that. And boy, I'm just getting started with Noctis and Gladio.**


	9. Promise Me

_When the night meets the dawn_   
_One will stand one will fall_   
_Broken I can't go on_   
_An act of despair is what I seek_

_._

_Was my destiny_   
_Decided by the hand of God_   
_Staring at memories_   
_Will I find the answer there?_   
_Will I?_

_Here I am in the dark_   
_Chained to demise and agony_   
_Madness is creeping in_   
_'Cause what I see cannot be real_   
_Or can it?_

_._

_I'm gonna feel the wrath of the king_   
_'Cause touching you was a sin_   
_I'm a victim of my own desire_

_._

_Battle Beast – Touch in the Night_

* * *

The sinking feeling of uncertainty had seeped into the very marrow of their bones, that's how it seemed as the group of men strolled back toward their camp. Noctis had taken the lead, walking briskly, occasionally to the point where they had to ask him to slow down a little. He would, with a twang of self-scolding as he halted to fidget on the spot and waited for the others to catch up.

And he was trying, so very hard, to ignore the eyes on his back – the piercing, calculating, pitying, regretful eyes that bombarded his defenses with a barrage of unvoiced thoughts and questions. A small sigh slipped out; he wished he was a mirror. Then all those looks would just automatically bounce back, he wouldn't have to force them down and try to hide it. It wasn't going very well.

Impatient fingers thrummed his arm as the sole of his boot kicked the ground lightly; something to do with his limbs while the three sets of steps closed the distance between them, the intense blue never once rising to meet the approaching retinue.

"Hey," Gladiolus tossed out, aiming for teasing, but only coming out as off-key and awkward, "aren't ya forgettin' somethin'?"

His jolt at the sound of the shield's voice was visible. It was closer than he thought, and the gazes met for an instant before the prince averted his again. Forgetting, huh? Noctis wished he could. Forget about the look on the man's face when he had seen his shoulder. Brush off the unease that had made a nest into his chest and was eating him from the inside. This wasn't right, he reminded himself. This was still Gladio. His most trusted. He wasn't supposed to fe-

He shook that thought off with a firm head shake, refusing that word from entering his thoughts. It wasn't like that! Whatever had happened, none of it was Gladio's fault! He knew this, really _knew_ it, and yet it still felt like the ground had disappeared from beneath him and he was left suspended in mid-air, frozen in the fraction of time before the fall. He swallowed thickly as he stole a wary glance at the shield, the man not looking at him anymore. Noctis felt like a thief, cowering in solitude and sneaking peeks when it best suited him. He wanted to slap himself for being this jumpy. Did he truly give the man that little credit?

"Everything alright?" Ignis asked out of sheer habit. It was a stupid question, but meant kindly, and Noctis bit back the desire to snap something witty back at him. The hum the adviser received was a sound of nonchalance, neither confirming nor denying. He saw through it, though, for a steady hand was laid upon his shoulder. With a quiet breath, Noctis met the emerald, and although his eyes were tinted with the same worry they all shared, Ignis still managed a reassuring smile. He spoke quietly, only for the raven to hear, "We've faced troubles before, Noct, and we have resolved them." He held a short pause, "It'll be alright."

And the prince wanted to believe him. Gods, with all his heart he wanted to just snuggle into the promise in that warm voice and let it lull him back into comforting calm. But he couldn't. Couldn't because deep down Noctis knew that this was something that none of them knew how to deal with. It was beyond them. That's why he brushed the adviser's hand off with a shake of his head. Before the stupefied look on the brunet had melted away, Noctis pushed past him gently and headed on. "Let's go."

Behind his distancing back, Gladiolus' fists clenched tighter as his lips pulled back to reveal teeth; an enraged snarl of guilt, regret, self-disgust, a myriad of emotions surging through his mind. And as his prince put more distance to his slowly following entourage, only one thing was crystal-clear to him: he deserved this. Whatever vehemence Noct was harboring, he would accept it. Nothing he said or did would undo the sin he had committed. No amount of trying to claim that he wasn't conscious when he had done it would change anything. An involuntary tremble teased the muscles of his upper back at the sight of the slight wince, and Noctis gripped his injured shoulder, the motion like a fiery blade carving across his chest, leaving behind a searing throbbing that seeped out of him in strangled hisses. A fist cracked open enough for the man to see the crescent moon shaped red marks where his nails had dug into the skin, close to breaking the skin; the amber swept it over, and it was like he could still feel the blood even though there was nothing on his hands. The tremble of the limb was chased away by a fierce clench, and this time Gladiolus was sure that he had nicked his palm.

"Gladio."

Ignis' eyes widened and an unguarded breath left him when the said man's eyes snapped to meet him. It was only for a flash, but Ignis could swear that the man's eyes had shifted slightly. Like the whites had been consumed by the amber, the wild look in them piercing and unnatural. Animalistic…

The look was gone as fast as it had come, leaving Ignis to question if he had imagined it after all when the shield raised an eyebrow in silent question. Clearing his throat quietly, the adviser forced the collectedness back into his demeanor. "I'm sure that you're getting sick of hearing this, but what happened is not your fault." The shield snorted a shrug.

"Then whose is it?" he asked, irritation clear in his voice. "You saw what I did, Iggy. Hell, it's probably you who patched him up, right?" He held a short pause just to read the correct answer from the other's body language. "You don't know it, not like I do. And Noct does, too, I can tell. When I was that… that thing you said, I…" his voice trailed off, replaced by another snarl accompanied with a small growl, and was it just the breeze running down the adviser's spine at the brief flash of what looked like pointed teeth…?

He was snapped out of it by the brute's voice, "I heard his voice, Iggy. It was like it was coming through a fog, but I heard it. And I…" he let out a pained hiss, "I couldn't help 'em."

Sensing the desolation stemming from the shield, Ignis' face fell and he shook his head, "We don't understand what's going on, we shouldn't-"

"Cut the crap, Iggy," the man cut in. Not angrily, but rather like he was tired of hearing excuses. "You know what I've done." The tone made it perfectly clear what the man meant. "And you know what happens to traitors." Ignis swallowed.

"Gladio…" It was inconceivable that the man would even suggest that! A part of him felt sick.

"Relax," Gladiolus shook his head. "You know Noct's never gonna allow it. Even though he probably should," he chuckled darkly, then sighed deeply. "Let's go. His High-ass is waiting."

* * *

The occasional clinking sounds coming from the cooking station were the only noises disturbing the tense silence. The moment they had reached the camp, Ignis had busied himself, muttering something about getting the breakfast going and that it was well due time. No-one felt particularly hungry, but they hadn't said anything as the adviser had gone to get his pans and kettles out with the tenacity of a desperate man, and gotten to work. It was his way to distract himself, after all, an outlet to clear his head a little; no-one had any objections to that.

Noctis was sitting on the log by the cold coals, his chin resting on crossed hands, the eyes locked onto a spot in the ground a few feet in front of him. His head was buzzing, and yet not a single coherent thought formulated in the haze of his mind. Just fragments of his imagination – flashes of memories and violent imaginings of what could have been, all of them interrupted and most of them disturbing. It was making him dizzy. The fingers rose to rub his temples, a small sigh escaping at the soothing motion. He felt his shoulders drop as the tension slowly drained from them, and the relaxation of the body allowed some temporary clarity for his mind, too. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he enjoyed the feeling the best he could, knowing that it probably wouldn't last long.

What brought an end to his moment were the steps stopping before him, and as the prince lifted his gaze, the blue eyes travelled up the faint leopard print and the dark outfit until he met the set of oceans, a dopey, lop-sided grin adorning the face. "Hey." The voice was faint, so unlike Prompto; Noctis let out a soft breath. "You mind…?" he motioned towards the empty space next to him. Averting his eyes, the raven shook his head; there was a shuffle, and a hand visited his good shoulder briefly before the blond took a seat. Leaning forward to rest his elbows onto his knees, Prompto's face was hidden behind the light locks. Sensing that the blond wanted to take his time, Noctis waited for him to speak.

"So… does that hurt?" he eventually uttered, not looking at him. Realizing what the blond meant, Noctis glanced at his shoulder briefly, making a mental note that he should change at the sight of the ruined garment. "A… a little. It's not too bad."

"Uh-hnh," the tone was disbelieving. He held a pause, "You should let Iggy look at it," he tossed out, but it sounded forced.

"Maybe I will," the raven replied, mirroring the other's tone. Another silence ensued, the blond shaking his head slightly, whereas Noctis' gaze had dropped back to the ground.

"Hey Noct?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Maybe you should talk to him?" he nodded in the direction Gladio had gone, and as the raven's gaze followed the motion, he could see the figure sitting hunched at the edges of the haven; he sighed.

"I know, Prom." The blond turned to look at him again, the eyes conveying what the words couldn't. There was a crack in the blue sky. It was fear.

The look was gone with a blink, and Prompto forced a more encouraging expression again. Giving another sloppy grin, the blond muttered an excuse to leave, something about checking if Igster needed help with anything, and with that, the presence was gone, and Noctis was left with his task he knew he couldn't put off for much longer. It was getting unbearable as it was. Letting out a deep breath, the prince pushed himself up and strolled towards the solitary man.

The shield turned lazily at the sound of the footfalls reaching him, and a brief look of surprise washed over his features. It wasn't whom he had expected. "Noct?" The said man jerked his head as a greeting, but his face remained solemn and tense. Deciding that he wasn't going to wait for permission, Noctis sat down next to the man, dangling his feet over the edge of the cliff further than was strictly safe, the reckless motion sending the shield's instincts flaring. "You've got a death wish or somethin'?" his chuckle held scolding; the raven simply shrugged.

"I can always warp. It's no big deal."

"The Modesty herself," the brute rolled his eyes. Noctis gave him a look that said, 'was that supposed to be funny?'. "Relax. Just messin' with ya. Can't say I wasn't right, though."

"Shut up."

And he did. They both did. As the last of the chuckles died down in their throats, the iron band was back around their hearts as the men sat gazing at the meadow lands below, both looking for the right words, both waiting for the other to speak first.

Noctis was the one to crack, "Hey, uhm... about what happened…"

"Yeah," the man sighed. "Sorry. For what it's worth, anyway."

"Don't be," the raven fixed him with a meaningful look before averting his gaze again. "It wasn't your fault."

"The hell's the deal with all of ya repeatin' the exact same thing? You guys're a broken record," Gladiolus smirked sorrowfully. "If it's not mine, then whose is it?" It was a rhetorical question, but cluelessness crossed over the prince's face nonetheless. He had no answer. At least, not an answer he would like to give, and the shield knew that. "Thought so," he breathed out, lowering his eyes to his hands, the amber staying with them as if the man could see the crimson staining them in his head.

"What I committed, 't was a high treason, Noct," he spoke eventually, his gaze still resting in his lap. The prince's intake was sharp, a cold tremor running down his back at the very mention of that word, and he opened his mouth to protest, but the shield beat him to it. Fixing the younger with a stern look, he insisted, "You know how it is, kid. If it were like before, I would be facing execution."

"Wha… the hell are you talkin' about?!" Noctis sputtered incredulously. "What's with you, sayin' things like that? 'T's not like you _meant_ to do this!"

"Does it make a difference? I'm dangerous."

"It does to me!"

The amber eyes widened, a small gasp of surprise leaving him. Noctis' eyes had taken the maroon tint as his temper flared. The prince's breaths came in angry pants through his nose, his lips a thin line of determination.

"Don't you get it?! It's _the_ difference!" he almost spat, his eyes blazing with the wavering color. "I need to know if… if you can control this thing, Gladio! I need to-," his voice was cut off suddenly, replaced by a shuddery intake as the words he couldn't say stung his throat. 'I need to know if I can trust you.' He couldn't say it, not even to himself. He hadn't meant to say that other thing, either, it had just sorta slipped out, like his lips had worked without his brain's consent. But that… that he couldn't voice. It was too much; the man was his shield.

He had to be able to trust his shield. Otherwise, what could he ever?

And that's why his heart felt like it was about to be crushed; he wasn't sure he could do that at the moment. Not sure at all. The steady throbbing in his shoulder was a grim reminder of that. And Gladiolus could see it. The man read it from his eyes as the maroon drained out with the rest of his rage.

He didn't say anything for a while, just looked at his young ward, the amber eyes so uncharacteristically full of emotion Noctis found himself almost unable to look at them. So full of everything that they were almost clouded. There was empathy, there was guilt. There was compassion and regret, self-loathe and asking for forgiveness. There was worry and fear. There was uncertainty. "I dunno, Noct," he averted his gaze. "Hell, I don' even know what this thing does to me. I just… it feels like a presence, in the back of my mind. All I know is, there's gaping holes in my memory: wakin' up in different places, things feelin' different. I can't really explain it," he shook his head, looking oddly defeated; an involuntary gulp slid down Noctis' throat at the sight of that. It didn't suit the man.

"And still," the man continued, his voice taking a pained edge, "there's these things I feel. Smells. _Urges_." The last word was a grunt through grit teeth; the pained eyes were squeezed shut. "Like something is tempting…" his voice trailed into hissed breaths of rage, and Noctis' eyes briefly visited the clenched fists, trembling slightly from either rage, or some other emotion the raven rather not be named.

"Shit, Gladio…" was sighed, his posture slumping. Hopelessness caressed his chest with its cold claws, bringing up a salty feeling behind his eyes.

The brute straightened up a little, let his head roll back and mouth hang slack as a false sensation of relaxation oozed from him. A pained kind. The lost kind. "Even now it's like there's someone just behind my back, but when I turn around, there's nothing. That's what it feels like, like something's watching. And sometimes, I…" he drew a shaky breath, "I hear this howlin'. It's been like that since we came to this _goddamn_ forest. It's, it's gettin' louder."

Noctis listened, bewildered, "Why didn't you say anything?!" The shield just chuckled, a regretful, sad sound.

"And how sane would that have sounded, I wonder," he smirked darkly. He fell silent after that, dropping his chin back toward his chest, the amber resting on something ahead of him. Noctis' mouth opened and closed as the young man tried to find the words, but nothing came out. He was empty, clueless. He didn't know what to say that would bring any comfort, so he opted for, "C'mon." Making a motion to tug the other to come with him, he pushed himself up. "I'm sure Specs's about done with breakfast. Let's move." A look of surprise visited the brute's face, sending a fresh sting across his healing forehead, before it melted into a grateful inkling of a smile.

"Alright. Guess there's no missin' Iggy's cookin', is there?"

"Not in a million years. Get up."

He did, and Noctis flashed him with what was the best smile of encouragement he managed at the moment, and was already walking when a firm hand closed around his arm, jerking him off his groove. Throwing an irritated glare, his expression demanded, 'what is it now?'

Gladiolus wasn't phased by the look, though. His face was one of gravity, and he didn't let go of the arm; a fact that had Noctis' heart rate climb slightly as it registered to him. "Gladio…?"

"Noct," the tone was meant to make sure he shut up and listened. "I want you to promise me something." Sensing that whatever it was that the brute was getting at, it was serious; Noctis swallowed quietly. "If I fail to control this thing, Noct… if I become dangerous, I want you to kill me."

Noctis' stomach dropped, along with his heart. "Wha…?!"

"Promise me, Noct."

He drew in a few shaky pants, the blue scanning the amber, his heart clenching unpleasantly as he saw the determination in them. Gladio was dead-serious. He was really asking this of him. He couldn't believe he was hearing this! "Wha-what are you sayin'…?!"

"If this thing is released, many might get hurt or die. You know that. I want you to stop it before-"

"Shut up!"

"It's not a matter of choice…!"

"Well, it's not gonna happen, alright?" Noctis huffed, tearing his arm free. "I'm not gonna let it."

"Noct…"

"Don't you get it? I'm not gonna! You're not gonna die. _That_ I promise you," arms rose to cross over his chest, and he fixed the older with a piercing look, and it was like he had been punched in the pelvis. Air seemed to leave him in a guttural breath at the sight before him, the prince looking so resolute, so in-control. Regal. Fit to his position by birthright in every sense of the word. His heart skipped a beat.

"Heh. Spoken like a true king," he chuckled darkly, but it had been enough. The faint flicker of hope inside him that had almost been quenched lit aflame anew, Noctis' words having spurred forth something akin to a promise. His heart thrummed; there was still a chance. If there was a way, they would find it. And they would see it to its end; Gladiolus would stop no sooner, and he was sure that Noctis would follow through with him. Walk that path to the ends of the earth if that's what it took. "Alright."

"We good now?" the prince huffed, rolling his eyes. Geez, just what the hell had that been about?

"Yeah. Thanks," the shield ran a hand through his hair gently, shaking his head a little. This wasn't how he had planned this to go. But, apparently, Noctis could still surprise him.

The sound he received was an inward grunt of impatience and vexation, his arms still crossed, although a bit more loosely, as he gestured for them to move. Signaling him to go first, the shield came a couple steps behind him as Noctis led them back.

The others' attention was instantly on them as the duo came closer. The silence was electrified with nervousness and expectation. "Everything alright?" Ignis asked hastily, not particularly surprised when his answer was just a shake of midnight-colored head.

"Hey," the shield greeted, flicking a wrist. "What's with the mournin'?" It was meant as a joke, but it still stung him to sense the apprehension practically pouring from his comrades. Did they truly fear him that much? He could _smell_ it. It smelled like salt and rust. His eyes seeked the sky blue pair, but Prompto averted his almost as soon as their eyes met, a skittish hand rising to scratch the back of the neck, and a pang of guilt clawed at his chest. He let out a low sigh.

Ignis made a small show of tearing his attention from his task. The way he rubbed his pristine gloves together was just that much exaggerated, and the precision with which he fixed his glasses was too polished to be mistaken for casual, too. "Luckily, the two of you made it back just in time," he nodded towards the four bowls sitting on the fold-up table: pickled vegetables and sliced fish were placed neatly onto a rise bed, accompanied by a raw egg and chopped spring onions. The aroma rising from the still steaming bowls was downright delicious.

"Thanks, Ignis," Noctis nodded as he was handed a bowl, but it sounded hollow. Not that the adviser would blame him. On the contrary, he dropped the act of normalcy as he, too, dug into his own meal, trying to block out the atmosphere.

They ate in unusual silence, until Gladiolus set the rest of his dish down, "Ah! Thanks, Iggy." It was acknowledged with a court nod and a small hum of appreciation, but the said man merely glanced at him. Grunting, the shield crossed his arms as he leaned his weight against the cooking station, "Hey!" That got everyone's attention; three pairs of eyes were drawn onto him, tentatively, like they were afraid the man would bite if they looked at him wrong. "What's with the mopin'? We need a plan."

"Tell us something we don't know," Noctis muttered into his dish..

Setting his bowl down, never having had an appetite anyway, Ignis crossed his arms, "Well, little as it pleases me, unfortunately it is clear that we have no idea of what we're dealing with."

"Given. So, what we do?"

"... I wish I knew."

"But, there's a way, right?" Prompto spoke a bit hesitantly.

"Sure there is," Noctis tried to force forth the confidence he wasn't feeling. "We just… need a hint, I guess."

"What about Lady Lunafreya?" Ignis fixed him with a look. "As the Oracle, she would be better enlightened than us of the matters such as this." Noctis let out a long sigh, his eyes dropping to the ground as he shook his head a couple of times.

"There hasn't been a word from Luna for weeks," there was a sting of hurt in the prince's voice. "Even if she could do something about it, she could be anywhere, as far as we know."

"I see…"

"So that really leaves us with only one choice, doesn't it?" Gladiolus spoke up, irritation audible in the deep voice. Ignis' eyes widened,

"You can't mean…"

"What choice do we have? She's the only one within half the world's radius who understands anything about this kinda stuff." He held a small pause, "Do I look excited to you? She's the best chance we've got."


	10. The Binding of Fenrir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Sorry about the long, long wait, guys! But here's chapter 10. Spellbound is drawing to its end, only two left after this. And as you can see, the name's paying a little homage to Fenrir appearing throughout the FF series and in the folklore, too.
> 
> So thanks again, everyone, who's been reading this so far! The little witch girl in me has been so excited to write this. Like, simultaneously I'm playing this World of Darkness supernatural larp campaign, and that has given me so much boost to work on this. Although my beta can justify for me that I've been close to a breakdown with it more than once, haha. Nonetheless, it's getting done. I'm almost done with chapter 11, too, so it should be relatively soon.
> 
> The whole thing beta read by Elillierose. I realized I've forgotten a couple of credits. But she's helped me throughout here, so thanks again.
> 
> Now, let's hit it! Who's excited to hear what's really going on?

Kimya's eyes shone with genuine warmth as the four men strolled closer. The prince was in the lead, the others following him with various degrees of reluctance; however, the only one notably staying back, as if to avoid the meeting for as long as he could, was Gladiolus. Looking like a gathering stormfront, the warrior tried to busy his eyes with anything else but the sight of the woman. This had been his idea, he knew. But, it didn't mean that he was particularly looking forward to it. Bearing in mind the remnants of the previous, downright disastrous encounter not three whole days ago, Gladiolus was less than eager to meet the woman again – ever, and not to mention, quite this soon. He swore, if they hadn't been _desperate_ …

"Welcome, dears. Back so soon, I expected you not," she smiled sunshine at them.

"Yeah, well, neither did we," Noctis uttered, halfway talking to himself. Deciding that it was probably the best to just get to the point, he took in a breath before speaking, "Listen, uh, we kinda need your help?" The woman looked positively surprised.

"Help you, I will, if I can. Tell me, my dear, what is it that troubles you?"

The intense blue traveled to the silently seething brute, and the lady followed his gaze to meet the blazing ambers; her brows rose, and the gentleness in her expression faltered, the look taking a sharper edge. A knowing edge.

"Something you bear, there is, am I right?" The question was rhetorical, but the man gave a stiff nod anyway. "Tell from your eyes, that much I can." A sharp hiss slithered between clenching teeth, and the man bit back a flare of vexation. They had come here to get answers, he reminded himself. 'Play it cool.'

"You know what it is?" he asked, managing a neutral tone, if a bit harsh. If the woman took note of it, she didn't show it, however. Instead she eyed him in a studying way, a soft hum sounding from her. She nodded, gravely, and something about the motion made him gulp. Something about it told him that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

"I do, indeed. And great pain it brings me, to tell you this. For blight will it bring, to those who surround you," her gaze went through the others, briefly resting on each of them before returning to meet the amber. "A curse there resides in you, one of most cruel."

The shock was apparent in the unguarded gasps. Widened eyes went back and forth between the two; the men were stunned for a moment, the news like a slap in their face. Even though it was something all of them had pondered in their hearts, hearing it spelled out like that, flat-out and unembellished, the reality hit them with all its destructive gravity.

The prince stammered a little, "A-A curse?! Wha' kinda curse?!" Kimya's now piercing gaze turned to him, and the prince found himself taking a subconscious step back.

"Yourself, you should ask. Seen it, you have, that which lies beneath," her eyes trailed to his left shoulder, "Met it first-hand, if I may."

The midnight eyes had widened. "How do you know that?" was a whisper, voiced thoughts slipping out unguarded. The woman's lip tugged up, but the smile no longer held the warmth nor the gentleness. It was a sorrowful look, one of empathy. Then, her attention snapped back to the shield,

"Hear me, Fenrir!" It was like she had spoken from the bottom of a well. A hollow echo had wrapped around her voice, the words coming out like an odd incantation, a deep sound from the netherworld, and yet all-consuming. It stole the breath from their lungs, leaving behind a layer of rime that chilled them from the inside.

But finally, it was his reaction that sent their spirits spiraling down.

Gladiolus had gone stiff, his back muscles rigid with the hunch of his upper body. His arms had lowered to the sides, the nails in the bent fingers seemed to have elongated, looking like claws more than anything. His breaths came in slow heaves, underlined with a low growl. And beneath the piercing eyes now wholly consumed with amber, they could clearly make out the pointed teeth behind the snarl.

Noctis' heart crumbled. "Gladio…?!"

Kimya took in the sight with a sad sigh, and nodded, and it was with a deep breath that the man seemed to come back to his senses. The whites of his eyes cleared again, and he blinked rapidly to chase away the sudden feeling of dizziness. "What the..?" he muttered. "'The hell happened?" The lady just smiled sorrowfully before turning away. "Hey?!"

"The binding of Fenrir," Kimya said solemnly before the old eyelids opened again, casting a look akin to pity at the burdened man.

"The what?" Gladiolus retorted, raising a brow. "What's that we're talkin' about here?"

The woman regarded him with irritation before starting,

"In these parts, a story is told, from the days of the old. Of a guardian of the thicket, that is. 'Fenrir', they called him, the townsfolk of the day." The men had fallen deathly quiet, drawing in each word like a priceless clue. "Walking in the form of a great black wolf, watch over the forest, he does. Rights the wrongs, upholds the balance." She fell quiet as if to offer them a chance to speak, but no-one said a word. Captivated by her words, the men were spellbound by the myth, eager to hear more.

"It is for the fear of the beast that the folks of the old, untouched this forest, they left. Dared they not wander into the thicket as long as the guardian dwelled, for feared they his wrath, should they ever lay a foot onto this sacred land. For stories are told, of men being driven into madness, haunted by visions and wretched ill luck should they have once crossed the meadows of the divine."

"The wrath…?" Noctis mouthed, but the woman heard him anyway; she ignored him, though. Color had drained from Gladiolus' face a little, the shield looking a bit like he was going to be sick.

"Feel him, you do, don't you?" He tried to reply, but his voice stuck into his throat as a painful lump of fright. What came out was just an affirmative sound, high-pitched with creeping terror. She nodded her understanding before turning to talk to all of them, "Said, it is, that to his will, Fenrir binds them who bring unbalance. Challenges them, tests them," she spoke monotonously before she fixed the shield with a look that held something the man couldn't quite place, but it was enough to make him gulp. There was a promise of suffering underlining the wisdom. "And if unworthy he deems them, kills them."

"Wha-?!" Noctis' heart skipped a beat. No, no, this wasn't right! Gladio hadn't done anything! "But why Gladio…?"

"Yeah," the shield grunted, although the new worry had festered into every fiber of his being, coating his voice with fear of the end. "'The hell does it want with me?!"

Kimya sighed, "For what exactly, I cannot say. The answer to that question, you yourself must unveil. But this, I know: in your heart, a weakness there lies that invites the darkness." His mouth hung agape, lips moving a little, but no sound was heard. She averted her eyes as if to look at someone that wasn't there, "The lost men, dark thoughts, they harboured. Dreams of power, lust for dominance. A chance, he offers. Grants them their wish if they should triumph. If not…" she fell silent, delivering the other alternative in a stern look.

Next to him, Ignis' gaze went from one to the other before he cleared his throat and asked, although he knew he wouldn't like the answer, "And, if not?"

Kimya glanced at him. "If not, if fails he, to impress the guardian, succumb will he, to the beast's nature forever," she had gone back to speaking to Gladio, the shield looking dumbstruck to say the least. If he had said that the woman's words were something he hadn't thought himself, Gladio would have lied, but… laid bare in all its horrifying whole, it just made the mere thought all the more terrifying. Endless shivers ran along his spine, the amber almost gobbling up the woman as if he was a lost man and she held all the answers. And, in a lot of ways, she did, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear them. He was scared.

But damn him if he was to go down quietly. "Well," he forced a humorless chuckle. "Sounds like a deal breaker to me," he put on a tense smirk and snorted, "So, how do I tell this guardian thing that he can go suck it?" And despite the gravity of the situation, the raven couldn't help a snort at the man's crude choice of wording.

Kimya was less amused, however; eyes narrowed, her lips were a thin line as she glared daggers at the brute. And maybe it was the obnoxiousness, the tease to add insult to injury that made her next words sear and carve, sink in like a hot knife to butter, "Once formed, the binding is irreversible." She took quiet delight in the way his face fell, smirking inwardly before continuing, "Tied, you are, to the guardian's power 'til the end. A chance, he offers you, but only one. If fail, you should, your mind, lost forever, will it be. Conquer the beast, or it will conquer you. Such is your destiny. Make it what you will."

Gladiolus' breaths came in shallow pants. "How, how the hell you know all this?! Just who're you?"

A sad smirk rose to the aged lips. "The tales speak of others. Men, who ventured into the thicket, a burning desire in their hearts, unafraid of the divine. Blinded by their pride. Driven mad by the curse, doomed to become animals. Feared and hunted down by the townsfolk. Only as the beast laid dead at their feet, would the people know of their folly."

The dumbstruck silence was strangling and raw, disturbed only by the sounds of their breaths, sharp and shocked and shuddery, until a stammering voice spoke after so long that Noctis visibly twitched. He had almost forgotten about Prompto being there, "A-and… how many of the others… made it?" The blond's voice was pained, ridden with anticipation. The blue oceans were darkened with ominousness; his teeth sunk into his lip.

Kimya sighed again, looking like she didn't want to answer that; it was with a pitying shake of her head that she deadpanned, "None. Not one of those men proved worthy to Fenrir."

"What?" It was Gladiolus. And it was devastated. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed, the shield's shoulders trembled. His gaze trailed slowly to look at his hands, then back to the woman. His lips moved, but nothing came out. There was a storm raging inside, and yet his mind was wiped white, deaf to anything but the shrill screeching sound in his mind, like knives scratching against a plate, an ear-piercing, hair-raising sound that made him dizzy. "But…" he managed. "How… my darkness…?" he trailed off into silence, lips moving with nothing on them, his voice betraying him as his heart, racing high in his throat, suffocated all sound from him, leaving behind only a hollow echo.

"Gladio…" Noctis mouthed. The prince felt shattered, heartbreak clenching his chest with crippling force. Then, his eyes snapped at the lady at breakneck speed, "But, there must be something, right? Something we can do?!" He took a couple steps closer, panic written all over his face. "Please, if there's anything we can do…!" He stopped maybe a step in front of her, desperate eyes nailed onto her age-dimmed eyes, his chest heaving a little with the butterfly exhales. A thought crossed his mind, and it was with a sharp intake and a soft clenching of teeth that Noctis hesitated for a second before he slowly lowered himself to sit on one knee, his head bowed, "Please…"

"Noct-!"

The woman regarded him with a mixed look of surprise and impression before it was replaced with compassion again, and she brushed his hair gently, the fingers running down his cheek and stopping beneath his jaw. Noctis didn't fight it when his chin was raised and the softened blue met the ashen grey; she smiled down at him, "Rise, Your Highness." Gulping a little, he did, a bit more shakily than he would have preferred, a flush tint slowly rising onto his cheeks. She didn't remove her touch before she had guided the prince up, but as she did, she lowered the hand onto his shoulder to linger there for a moment before averting the touch. "Something, there is, that might help your friend in his struggle." She held a pause, as if to almost wait for the prince to make a demand. "Remove can I not, the curse laid onto his shoulders. But to restrain the beast, I can help you."

"Re-restrain…?" the words tasted bad in the raven's mouth. It felt… wrong.

"Told you, I have, that very special, they are, the potions that I brew. The Oracle's blessing, my potions strengthen," she spoke as she walked to a small cupboard and took out a glass bottle far larger than those vials they were used to. The content was pearlescent white, cloudy liquid that seemed to shimmer in the brisk light of the morning. "Before the nightfall, pour this onto the runes of a haven. Heighten, it will, the holy powers of the blessing. Help, it will, to contain the beast, even if not suppress it."

"Runes…?" Noctis looked a bit lost as he took the bottle, carefully, eyeing the frailness with distrust.

"Yes. Make no mistake, save your friend, my aid will not." She looked at Gladio again, something akin to apology in her gaze, "His fight, this is. Himself, he must, face that which must befall. But should he succumb, hold him back, the sacred power of those runes should." Then, her face morphed into one of severity as she again turned to look at the others, meeting each pair of eyes briefly before settling to talk to no-one in particular. "One more warning, I leave with you, though," she started, gravity and desolation in her voice they had never heard before. "If he should fail, the rest of you must run. For no more will he know a friend from a foe; no longer will he recognize where his allegiance once lied. If the beast takes over, do what you must to save yourselves. For there is no way, to bring back your friend."

"But what about…?!" Noctis started, but was interrupted by a single shake of a head. Knowing what he was about to ask, not needing to hear it, Kimya gave him his answer.

"So," came a low, gruff voice. Gladio's. "It's a do or die, then."

"Gladio...!" Ignis eyed him in bewilderment at the preposterous words.

The shield simply gave him a hard look, one that forced the other to calm down, but didn't say anything. His attention was back on the woman, his instincts screaming. This woman. This snake wearing this harmless appearance. There was so much more to her than just that. Gladiolus' teeth clenched. Every single cell in him was alert and on the edge, something about this lady just rubbing him wrong. And yet he had no choice but to trust her. With nothing else to go with, he had to swallow the warning bells tolling unpleasantly in the back of his skull and pretend that he could trust her. For the wretched presence – the foul feeling that never left him nowadays – it was getting stronger, he could feel it. It was almost like constant brushes against his consciousness. Threatening whiskers and lingering malice, just beneath his psyche. The beast. Fenrir. He could feel it, the power within that wasn't his own. A gulp slid down his throat at the sensation of awakening at the recognition, and it was with a determined shake of his head that the man forced his mind from the gutter. His eyes narrowing a little, he said, "Don't fuss. I have zero intention of failin' this. If it's a gamble, then let's roll 'em."

"Gladio…?" Noctis uttered; the said man threw him a timid smirk.

"You heard the lady. If those are my options, Noct, you know damn well which one I'm takin'. Now, if we're done here, how 'bout we move it? Don't know about you guys, but I've heard enough." With that, he started towards the path leading them back towards the haven; the rest of the men were left staring at his distancing back until Ignis and Prompto exchanged a look before both turned to Noctis with perplexion and question in their eyes. The raven heaved a sigh, shaking his head at the brute's adamant behavior.

"I guess we'll go then," he muttered before turning to the woman again, raising the vial a little, "Hey… thank you."

"You're welcome, my dear. Hope, I will, for the best for your friend."

"Yeah. Thanks," Noctis said a little awkwardly, not really sure how to take the woman's compassion. He was already going before the voice stopped him.

"Your Highness?"

"Y-yeah?"

Kimya looked serious as she gazed into his eyes, and for some reason Noctis felt kinda hot suddenly. For some reason, it was difficult to hold her gaze. It was like the woman saw right through him, like she was looking into his very soul. "What I said, the truth, it was. Brace yourself, you should, to let go. If he fails the trials... if to the beast, should he succumb, nothing there is, that you can do for him, Your Highness."

Noctis' heart skipped a beat, a lump rising to his throat at those words. However, he forced it down with a deep intake, and a small smile that was only partially forced rose to his lips, "He won't. I know he won't." With a small nod, he then turned his back to the lady again, and together with Ignis and Prompto, headed after the shield.

* * *

The lightly rust-colored contents swirled around, the rays of the slowly lowering sun dancing on the oily concoction, creating a hypnotizing vortex of fall colors and light. The fervent movement eventually came to a still as Ignis tapped the spoon against the edge of the pot rather fiercely before taking in a healthy sniff of the aroma; a dissatisfied grunt was let out under the exhale. A deep crease forming between his brows, the man glared daggers down into the reducing curry, like it had been the dish that had done something to violate him. Trying to steer his mind back into his task at hand, Ignis fell back to his mantra of going through the endless lists and notes in his mind. The meat, the onion, the tomato. The garlic, the ginger, the turmeric…? Goddammit, had he added in the blasted damn turmeric yet or not?! A soft 'tsk' sounded from between clenched teeth; the spoon was slammed onto the fold-up table with noticeably excessive force.

"Uhm, Ignis…?" Prompto's confused voice sounded, and Ignis didn't need to look to feel everyone's eyes on his back. "Everything okay, man?"

"Yesss, Prompto. Everything is _absolutely_ _peachy_ ," he snipped back over his shoulder, long fingers lifting his glasses enough to pinch the bridge of his nose. Massaging it gently, the man drew in a long breath, and sighed, "Apologies."

"Uh-hunh," the blond just shook his head with no offence taken. Seeing the exasperation practically pouring from the adviser was enough of a warning not to venture any further down that road.

No, everything was not alright. Everything was far from alright, to be exact, Ignis thought with an inward snort. Never in his life had the man felt such hopeless worry. Not even when the news of the fall of Insomnia had reached them – their homes, their families, their loved ones, all of it, in ashes. Even then, Ignis' melancholy hadn't been quite like the abyss the man was fighting right now. Back then, Ignis had been able to do something about it. He had been able to focus on his duty: to protect and guide Noct. He had dedicated his being to his task, it had become his sole reason to exist. Now, now they were told that there was nothing they could do, just… just wait and hope for the best. Ignis' teeth clenched; he wasn't like that! It wasn't in Ignis Scientia's nature to watch idly from the sidelines as others put their lives on the line for something that mattered to them. He was one of those men, too, men of honor. Men who risked their lives to protect all that they held dear. Gladio mattered to him! And there was nothing he could do to help him. He was being ushered back, told to save himself before his friend. To abandon him!

Ignis had never heard such bullshit in his life.

No, everything was not alright. Everything was going cosmically down the drain, was what Ignis wanted to say, but held his tongue. It wouldn't help. Forcing the collected façade on again, the brunet turned off the gas and slowly made his way over to slump into the nearest unoccupied camping chair. Leaning forward, his fingers quickly found the familiar rim of his glasses before they were confined tightly, crossed over each other and his chest. With a huff, the adviser snuggled against the flimsy fabric of the chair, an uncharacteristic pout on his features as the emerald traveled through his company.

Noctis wasn't doing much better. Sitting precariously with elbows on his knees, the young man gazed at nothing with a tight expression on his face; his left foot tapped the ground idly, frantically. A subconscious gesture Ignis had noted him picking up when he was deep in thought. Next to him, Prompto fiddled with the barrel of his gun, the subtle tremble in his hands almost concealed by the nimble way he cleaned each nook and cranny, despite the part looking as spotless and shiny as if he had cleaned it thrice already. As did each of the parts sitting on a camping tray next to him, but nonetheless Prompto, once satisfied with the piece currently undergoing his tending, still picked up the already meticulous-looking slide and started to work on it, going through each nick and corner with painstaking precision. Under any other circumstance, Ignis would have appreciated the zealousness greatly. Now it just made him more nervous. Nervous because it was so forced, so fake. A front, a façade, a diversion, an excuse, a fabrication, a cover-up. A denial. A straight-forward goddamn lie.

Ignis thought he was going to be sick. His breaths growing shuddery, his gaze went astray, his head was swimming, he was going to be sick…! Feeling like he was about to faint, Ignis panted quietly, cold sweat rising over his brow, until his wandering eyes caught the sight of the other's eyes. And, the familiar sternness of amber, the silent demand reached out to him through his moment of unclarity, the shield's demeanor pulling him back from the freefall he had been slipping into.

Sitting across from him, Gladiolus eyed him with an odd aura of acceptance and serenity, a look so calm it almost puzzled him. He seemed eerily prepared for this. How did the man manage that, Ignis wished he was yet to find out one day, but for now, he gladly accepted the solace the man's conciliating look brought. Smirking a little as a thank you, the brunet eased his hands to rest on the handles, fighting the urge to grip them, though. His skin shone a little with the light sheen of sweat as his heart rate slowed down to a more reasonable pace.

Seeing the cracks in his friend's cool, the oldest huffed a breath and rose to stroll over to sit next to him. He didn't say anything at first, one glance communicating silently his appreciation for the man's worry but simultaneously said, 'get a hold of yourself'. Looking like something was stuck in his throat, Ignis had to avert his eyes. He feared what more he would see in there if he kept looking.

Sensing the need to shift the atmosphere, Gladiolus tried to sound casual as he asked, "So, what's for dinner?"

"Uh, it's, vegetable curry, actually," Ignis coughed lightly to clear his throat. "With a side of rice and pickled plums."

"Hngh. Doesn't sound too bad – for a last supper," he snorted.

"Gladio, please," Noctis threw him an incredulous glare.

"Relax. Just kiddin'. And by the way, you guys would do well to pull yar head outta yar asses already."

"What's that?" the prince retorted, raising a brow.

"You heard me. We need a plan. There's only so long until nightfall, and this thing has only happened in the night, right? So, I think we can count on it happening again."

"Right…"

"So, what'd we do?" An otherworldly silence came to rest above the men, not disturbed even by the soft sounds of a washcloth rubbing against metal or a foot thudding into the dirt. It was a heavy, tangible silence that they had almost grown accustomed to over the past few days. Gladiolus snorted, "Geez, don't yall start shoutin' at once…"

"Well, it goes without saying that we'll be using the potion provided by Ms. Kimya," Ignis started, avoiding everyone's eyes as he pushed his glasses up. "Should you… transform, no aid should be wasted as naught."

Gladiolus snorted at the mention of the woman. "Yeah? And if that doesn't work?"

Ignis fixed him with a dark look, "I do have… another idea, as a matter of fact."

"You do?" Prompto perked up a little, sounding almost hopeful.

"Yes, although I would rather we didn't need to result to that. I'm afraid you're not gonna like it," the adviser glanced at the gunner before returning to talk to Gladio.

"So? You think I'm particularly fond of the flea bag option, either? Le's hear it."

Sighing with disdain, the adviser pushed himself up and went to shuffle through their camping supplies. As his hand closed around the item he was looking for, Ignis had to repress the shudder of detestation that he even considered something like this. That he was forced to. As he walked back to them, the series of shocked gasps were like consecutive slashes onto his pride.

"No way…!"

"Ignis… you serious?!" Noctis exasperated.

"Iggy… don't tell me this is your idea," Gladiolus uttered disbelievingly as he eyed the rope held in the adviser's hands.

"No," Noctis stated. For some reason, this seemed to go too far. Was Ignis seriously suggesting that they would _tie him up_?! What was he, an animal?!

Oh, yeah. Right.

"Believe me, this is something I would rather not have to go through," Ignis' tone, combined with the sour look on his face, told exactly how much the thought about what would have to be done pleased him. Tossing the rope in the middle of the circle of chairs like it was something filthy, the man eyed it darkly. He didn't want to result to this, but what other choice did they have? All of them knew this, really knew it, and thus no-one, not even Noctis, kept their protests up for long. Throwing dirty looks at the pile of rope sitting on the ground, the men both waited and feared for the approaching nightfall, knowing that it would only lead them deeper into this nightmare.

As the sun descended close to horizon, it was with an apology wrapped around his words that Ignis asked, "Are you ready, Gladio?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he shrugged, but it was obvious that the man was just trying to cover up his creeping panic with nonchalance. Ignis saw through it; he knew him better than that. But he decided to not say anything about that, to allow the man some dignity at least. "Noct?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Ms. Kimya said that that potion should be applied by nightfall. Would you mind doing that with Prompto?"

"Sure. You, uh, you guys ok?" he asked, wishing he didn't sound so awkward, but he couldn't help it.

"Yes, thank you, Noct. I believe we're fine," Ignis nodded, managing a tone close to normal as he ushered the younger men on before turning his attention to the shield. Already sitting on a large rune, shirtless and his shoes removed, the man eyed him expectantly, with an inkling of challenge in the flaming gaze. Ignis gulped; could they really go through with this? They had no choice, he reminded himself before crouching next to the shield.

"I'll have to tie you from all limbs, Gladio, so you should lie down," he instructed. "Now, I cannot cut you any slack with the tightness of the binding, obviously. But I'll wrap some cotton under the ropes. I don't wish this to hurt you any more than it must."

"Don' worry about it, Iggy. If this really happens… if I'll become that thing… Fenrir… some rope burns are the least of our problems," he tried to chuckle, but it fell short. Soulless and strangled with his deepening fear, Gladiolus fell quiet as he allowed the man to start working on tying the rope first around his ankles, then the left arm and finally, with a mixed look of apology and reassurance, Ignis tied his right arm and pulled the last rope tight, then tied it thrice around a boulder, effectively pinning the shield down, spread-eagled and helpless. The man tested the bindings, only to realize that Ignis had done a pretty damn good job. The restraints allowed minimal room to move, merely shifting his weight around rather than actual movement. He felt the rope digging against the cotton cushioning at a mere jerk of his arms or legs. Taking a deep breath to get the initial panic under control, Gladiolus fixed the other with a dark smirk. "Well, Iggy, gotta say, this escalated quickly," he chuckled. "I don't usually do stuff like this before the second date…"

With a half-amused snort, Ignis crouched by the man's head, "Are you alright? Does anything hurt?"

"I can take it," he glanced away dismissively. It was uncomfortable but not exactly painful, not yet, and he didn't need Ignis fussing over him. He wasn't his mother!

Luckily, the brunet seemed to understand that, too, since he flashed him a brief look of encouragement before pushing himself up and making a move to get away from him. Before he left, though, he turned to toss over his shoulder, "We will all stay on guard tonight. Should you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Alright." With that, he was gone, the velvety voice saying something to Noctis and Prompto, something he didn't quite catch but that's fine. The odd position and the slowly seeping tension around his wrists and ankles was beginning to drift his senses from his surroundings, towards the discomfort and the strong heart beats that filled his ears. This would be it, then. In his mind, it was like something ran a hand down his cheek in a mock caress; Gladiolus let out a low, long hiss. "Get the hell away from me…!" he growled at himself.

"What's that?" Noctis sounded questioning; had he heard him right? Had Gladio been talking to him in the first place?

The amber eyes snapped back to focus, taking in the three faces above him. He snorted; had he actually said that out loud…? "Heh, hey. Nevermind," he shook his head a little. "What's up?"

"That's my line," the prince chuckled as he sat down where Gladio could see him without having to crane his neck. "So, uh… what's it like?"

"What? Waiting?"

"... Yeah, I guess?"

The shield sighed, "Like someone kept banging on your backdoor even though you're not gonna answer that? It's… like a second mind, but in my mind, you know?" he fell silent as his explanations wandered into such spheres where he wasn't able to follow them. The raven gazed at him, his eyes filled with fear and anticipation.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Gladio?" he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper.

"Nah. But got no choice here, do I?" Reading the desolation on the other's expression, he added sternly, "Hey. Listen, kid. This thing wants to test me, so I'll let it test me. I'll be fine. Whatever this test is about, I can take it."

"So, about 'conquering' it…?"

The brute shrugged the best he could, an odd jerk of his neck due to his strained limbs. "I guess I'll just hold it back or something? Can't really say before it actually happens. But I ain't gonna spend the rest of my life scratchin' fleas, you better believe it." Noctis spurted a mirthless chuckle. "You should get away from me, kid."

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Noctis stated.

"'M not kiddin', Noct. We don't know when it begins or what will happen. You should get back."

"He's right, Noct," Ignis said in confirmation. "This entity is beyond our control. We should keep our distance."

"But what about Gladio?!" the young man almost spat.

"Noct," the deep, demanding voice stole his attention, "do as we say. I'll be fine, trust me. This… this is something I gotta do alone."

"Gladio…" the blue eyes held a wish for the man to deny it all, and the man, for a moment remembered again that underneath the regal facade, the grandiose prophecy and the Crystal's magic, Noctis was just a young man. A young man who had seen so much pain, lost so much already. And that young man was scared. Scared and desperate, fearing that he was again about to lose someone dear him.

Gladiolus wasn't going to let that happen. His eyes softening, he tried to summon all his consolement into his voice as he promised, "I can do this. I'm the only one who can. Trust me. But I need you safe in order to do that. You follow me?"

And maybe the prince read something from those orbs that made his widen with understanding, but with a shaky nod, Noctis muttered an 'okay'. Then, with another intake came sturdier, "We'll be here for you, man."

"Yeap," Prompto winked with a genuine grin of encouragement. "And by the way, remember that time in Lestallum when you ended up a delivery boy to pay the bill 'cause someone had stolen your wallet? So that someone… might've been me." The shield's face fell, twisting with anger.

"'T was you-?!"

"Uh-uhn! You still need to get back to me about that! So, go on, big guy. Let's show that wolfie some boot to the rear and then come kick my ass," he chuckled, looking smug.

"Oh, trust me, I will," he started, a sinister snarl on his face as he glared daggers at the younger. "And when I do, there'll be no mercy for you, kid, so you'd better start runnin'," he eyed him with humored vehemence. The smirk on the blond's face faltered a little.

Ignoring the blond, Ignis cut in, "Are you sure you're ready?" The shield rolled his eyes, looking annoyed.

"How many times are ya gonna ask, Iggy? No, I'm not, but that's just too bad, now isn't it? Just, get outta the way. It's getting dark already." The adviser nodded.

"Alright." And with that, the man got up, motioning for the others to follow his suit, and with more encouraging looks and pats on the shoulder - and a heartfelt glare thrown at Prompto - the men sat down to wait by the fire. For what, they didn't know, but they waited, one of them checking on Gladio every so often in case he needed anything. As the dusk matured into velvety gloom and further into full-bodied darkness, a light curtain of fog rose to moisten the land and seeped into their clothes, leaving them shivering.

And then, it started.


	11. Dominus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Aaaah! Out of the whole thing, this is the one I've enjoyed writing the most. Haha, it is quite possibly the most animu thing I have ever written. :D I hope it'll live up to your expectations. Expect it to be rather upbeat, tho, lol.
> 
> I have actually two songs for this. The first one is the official song I have planned using as background music, so please click it on when you see the instruction (in parentheses) to start listening. It's "Dissidia Final Fantasy: Chaos Last Battle 1". Lol, and the second one is "Sanctus Dominus" by Powerwolf; I've been practically playing it on repeat throughout writing this. SO catchy! If you decide to listen to that one, please choose the Imrael Production version with the game music video. The video is gonna signify, lol.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll like it. Beta read by Elillierose. Plus, I wanna thank all who've read Spellbound and left comments, but a shout-out especially to StrongheartMaid, Astrid Midnight and a Guest for your lovely (and continued!) feedback: thank you so much! Your love for this has made me so happy so many times. ^..^
> 
> This is the second-to-last chapter for Spellbound. Haha, like always when about to finish a chaptered story, it's been grrreat writing this, but goshes, am I glad to have it finished and be able to move onto other stuff. :3
> 
> Growl.

Gladiolus' body tensed, his head was thrown back in a silent scream. Wearing the mask of agony, he thrashed, pulling against the bindings that dug into his skin. An enraged roar of anguish tore out of his throat as an unknown force fought to be released.

Noctis was afraid. His eyes never leaving the writhing form, his teeth grit almost painfully as he sat tensely by the fire, debating going to him but knowing that he shouldn't. Watching the man struggle ate him from the inside, though. His stomach dropped at another cry, a sound so foreign to him even though it had come from the brute. And he saw the blazing eyes consumed by the amber, and he knew that it wasn't Gladio he was looking at.

The shield's face contorted, pain joining the fury in his loudening screams; a cold hand squeezed around the raven's chest and quenched as he watched how the man's arms begun to twitch and tremble as the muscles contracted and gained volume. Dark hair was rising onto his torso and arms; it was as if it had originated from his tattoos, spreading out as a coat of darkness. Red stains had formed onto the ropes binding his wrists, the hemp eating its way deeper into his flesh as it constricted around the trembling limbs. Noctis didn't know how much longer they would hold.

Another scream, this time longer, lingering. An ear-piercing and heart-clenching sound that told them that Gladio was still there. Was still fighting this thing. And with all his heart, Noctis wished that it would be enough. That hope took a blow, though, as the man kicked his legs, and with an ominous creak of the supporting tree trunk, the rope around his ankles loosened precariously.

As he watched, the limbs, still kicking and thrashing, begun to shift. The leather pants were torn into pieces as the man's thighs elongated, bones bending unnaturally as the limbs repositioned. He was screaming, and with sickening, _sickening_ popping sounds, the knee caps snapped around, bending backwards like those of an animal. The growing claws stuck out with the widening of the bridges of his feet.

"So, this is it then…" he uttered to no-one in particular.

Next to him, Ignis glanced at the royal briefly. "Yes. Yes, it is." It sounded off somehow. Such fear didn't belong there, didn't belong in Ignis' voice; the raven gulped quietly.

Visibly wincing at the high-pitched cry – hell, a howl – of the shield, they were forced to witness how the face of the man changed into that of a beast, Gladio disappearing underneath the monster that now had his body.

With one more powerful kick, the beast tore its left leg loose, shortly followed by the other.

"Drat!" Ignis hissed, summoning a dagger and instinctively placing himself to stand a little in front of Noctis.

"Well, I guess we're about to find out if that stuff Kimya gave us is worth anything," Noctis chuckled humorlessly.

"C'mon Gladdy," Prompto muttered through clenched teeth. He had summoned his gun, too, although the blond looked like it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.

They watched in rising horror how the broadening limbs strained the rope, how the threads came undone as they lost the battle. The stench of burnt hair and flesh lingered in the air as blood from the chafes stained the ground. The breaths coming in heaving pants, Gladio spun onto all fours, the last tie holding him down now a mere hindrance that was soon done away with. An agonized gurgling cry tore from him, distinctively human this time, low and gruff and horrified. Blood-stopping. Gladio screamed as his body convulsed, and accompanied by a series of disgusting snapping sounds, his back bones protruded, one by one.

"Gladio!" His reply was an enraged roar as the beast thrashed its head. The prince went to get closer, his heart aching like it was about to be crushed, as a firm hand closed around his arm.

"Forget it, Noct. He can't hear us," Ignis hissed.

"Like hell I will!" the raven turned to snap at him. "Leggo of me! He needs us!" In the background, a pained growl rumbled into the night air as another wave assaulted him.

"He needs us staying out of the way," the man fixed him with a stunning gaze. "We'll be with him, Noct. But, we cannot help him. The best we can do is detain him should he attempt an escape, but otherwise we would only be putting ourselves at risk."

"You think I care?!" the raven jerked against the hold, only to be pulled back against the adviser.

"Well, you bloody well should!" Ignis spat, a look of fury flashing over his face at the stubbornness of his young liege. "Don't you understand what he's doing?! If what we know is true, he has to do this alone, and he needs you to stay safe so that he doesn't have to hold back. Did you listen to nothing that Gladio told you?! He specifically asked you to trust him. Have faith in him."

The blue eyes widened at the outburst. Not only because it was so rare to see Ignis like this, but also because he was right. So perfectly right. He was being an idiot; Noctis felt the shameful salt behind his eyes as his body relaxed under the slender fingers, a small sound of acceptance making it out of his throat. With a shaky nod, the man lowered his eyes; a small 'sorry' was barely audible. The emerald eyes softened, Ignis sighed empathetically at the sight.

"Noct." He waited until the younger one was looking at him again before continuing, "I understand that you're worried about him, but there's nothing we can do. He'll come through on his own. That, or… or he'll–"

"Don't." The raven pulled himself off the man.

Ignis huffed irritably. "I know it's not something you want to hear, but we cannot overlook the possibility–"

"I said, don't!" Noctis hurled back at him. "He's _not_ _gonna_ _die_ , Ignis! I–" he fell quiet. "I promised him…" and it was as if he'd lamented at himself, a soft sob mixing into the voice, "I promised him not to…" There was another roar, this time bestial and victorious, like a slash at his heart.

"Noct…"

"Guys! Heads up!" Prompto's unnerved voice broke the fragility. The two gazes flew into the direction of the shield, to take note of the blindly staggering form trampling towards them, head swishing from side to side wildly; the men had just enough time to leap out of the way before the mass fell onto the ground with a pained whine where they had stood two seconds ago. Large paws trembled, its sides heaved with shallow, rapid pants.

The creature climbed back up to stand precariously, growling in irritation and thrashing its head like it was trying to shake something off. A few yards from it, the men exchanged quick looks. "What is it… doing?" Prompto breathed out. The hand holding the gun ready, but not aimed, shook lightly.

Wide-eyed, and jaw slacking a little, Noctis' tone mirrored the gunner's, "It's… it's Gladio. Guys, I think he's fighting back!"

* * *

(Song: Dissidia Chaos Last Battle 1)

The air smelled just the way he remembered it. Gladiolus savored every intake; this was quite possibly the last time he'd smell it, after all.

The streets of the palace foregrounds were deserted as he strolled towards the circular driveway leading up to the staircase of the main entrance. His steps echoed in the emptiness a little, as if he'd been encased in a glass bowl, like a gigantic echo chamber.

On the palace stairs sat a tall, dark figure. As he got closer, he could tell that it was a man, looking like he was roughly in his forties, although Gladiolus suspected that age didn't matter to the spirit he was facing. The man stood up languidly, a smug smirk plastered onto the angled features.

He was broad-shouldered, yet lean, the toned muscle only subtly visible. He looked roughshod. He was wearing baggy pants that were tied snugly around his shins with crisscrossing leather straps. The absence of shoes revealed the overlong toe nails that pointed at the ends. Over his head and shoulders was splayed a midnight-black wolf pelt, the man wore it like a helmet and mane, the skinned nose of the wolf resting over his forehead. The whiteless eyes of gleaming yellow held mischief and undisclosed amusement. Now close enough, Gladiolus clearly made out the pointed teeth outlining the shit-eating grin; a flash of rebellion scourged through him at the plain sight of superiority presented to him.

"You have come, human," the man spoke with a hint of glee in the low voice that seemed to linger in the air as whispered echoes, even though the lips fell still. "Is your lust for power truly worth your life?"

Ignoring the suggestion, the shield asked gruffly, "You this 'Fenrir'?" The man just snorted.

"I go by many names among the mouths of your people. Call me whatever you like."

"Fine by me. How 'bout 'a flea bag'?" There was an angry glint in the yellow eyes.

"Brave words, coming from a mortal," the man growled. "Especially one whose mind is about to be completely eclipsed."

It was Gladiolus' turn to snort. "Like hell. I've got things to take care of. So, how 'bout you get off my back?"

"Was that supposed to be begging? It certainly wasn't a threat," the man rose an eyebrow. "It won't do you any good, mortal man."

"You know," Gladiolus smirked, "I never expected to get through to you with talk, anyway. So, what do you say? Let's settle this," he growled as he called his blade, the behemoth steel pointed at the man in challenge.

Fenrir chuckled, a hollow sound void of compassion or laughter. "You challenge me, even though you lack the strength. You're weak and afraid. I can _smell_ it." He took a few steps closer, sniffing the air. The smirk spread an inkling, and Gladiolus couldn't help a bead of moisture rolling down his throat, and subconsciously the blade was lowered into a defensive stance, separating the man from the fiend.

"'The hell do you want?" The incarnation stopped, the smirk melting away.

"The question is, what you? It was the weakness in your body, the yearning for strength that opened your heart for me. Tell me, mortal, why does the mankind crave power so badly?"

Electricity ran down the shield's spine at the words, his breaths coming in light, nervous pants. These truths, he had barely admitted them to himself. Had been too ashamed to embrace them, really. Hearing them spelled out like that didn't sit well with him.

"Cut the crap," he huffed, shaking his head a little. "Yeah, that's right. I wanna become stronger, alright. As I am now, it's not enough for me. So, you gonna gimme that power, or must I wring it out of you myself?"

"'Wring it out'? Hehe. I'd like to see you try, human. If only to humor me, and disgrace yourself further, that is," the grin was truly a wolf wearing a sheep's clothing: challenging and evil disguised as gentleness as the yellow eyes scanned him head to toe.

Trying his best not to let his guise falter, the shield insisted, "I was told you wanna test me. So, test me. I can take it."

"Foolish human. You will not succeed. You're no different from the others. The men before you fell under my power, and soon," Fenrir smirked, "you will join them." A statement, not a warning. Not an ounce of doubt in the low voice that was getting tainted with vehemence; Gladiolus could smell a whisker of adrenaline and musk emitting from the other as the man's arms slowly lowered to his sides, eyes narrowing in rising bloodlust.

"Try me," he snarled. "'Cause no way in hell am I gonna just–"

He was cut off by a fierce strike slamming against his open side. Fenrir had moved fast, incredibly fast. The force of the slash sent him tumbling against the asphalt; pain danced along his left arm with the scraping, but the shield did his best to put it past him as he forced air back into his lungs.

Fenrir stalked closer, the way the man purposefully left himself wide open adding insult to injury. "It is of no use. Your body is already gone, and your mind is soon to follow. It has already begun." He stopped a couple of feet from the brute who was pushing himself back onto his feet, a trickle of blood running down his chin. "You cannot stop it. Save yourself the pain and kneel at my feet, and I might consider ending you quickly."

Glaring at the apparition, Gladiolus supported his weight against the blade as he forced his legs back under him again, his free hand feeling for the claw marks left on his side. A sharp hiss left him at the touch, his breath hitching.

Maybe that's why the wolf man's eyes widened a little at the slightly strangled, snorty chuckle that slithered out of the wounded man.

Lowering his weight into a battle stance, Gladiolus swung the blade to rest on his shoulder, serene and somehow hungry eyes fixed on his match, a smug smirk on his lips. "Wa-was that caress… supposed to be a- a swing?" he panted lightly. "It tickled."

Readying his weapon again, Gladiolus snorted, "Now, how 'bout you come at me like you mean it?"

The look that spread over the wolf man's face was downright predatory. Grin spreading to show teeth, the yellow of the eyes deepened as shades of red seeped into it, the color becoming almost that of the shield's. "As you wish."

* * *

The beast's body had been quivering with the unsteady, spasmic inhales for closer to two minutes. Its every step had been staggering, as if the animal had been drunk or confused out of its mind. But now, it had stilled, the breaths gaining both depth and stability as the intakes grew more lucid, more aware.

More animalistic.

They didn't need to be told that the low, threatening growl they heard in the darkness was a bad sign.

The bloodthirsty depths of rust turned to Prompto, chafed lips spreading to reveal the canines, and the gunner briefly questioned just what on Eos had he done to deserve this. The gulp that slid down his pipe did little to ease the ache in it; his quiet 'uh-oh' was swallowed down with the bead of moisture. Prompto raised the gun parallel to the wolf crouching its weight down onto its hind legs, but the sights trailed around wildly. His eyes like saucers, the thin lips moved as the blond mouthed a silent plea. The finger tightening around the trigger had never felt so heavy before. It was like frozen, refusing to obey.

"Prompto!"

Noctis' voice reached him only a moment before the flash of blue did; there was a shove, throwing the blond off balance, and Prompto found a weight landing on top of him as he met the ground elbow-first. Pain shot up his arm, but it barely had time to register. He felt the movement of the air as the beast leaped over them, the ground shaking a little with the heavy thump less than three yards from them. There was a confused grunt, and the animal stepped a couple of times to gain steadier footing. "Noct…"

"Later! C'mon, move it, Prom!" Noctis yelled as he scrambled off him.

"No need to tell me twice, man," the blond uttered as he, too, got up, less gracefully than usual. "Dude… he seriously just tried to kill me," he gawked incredulously.

"Yeah…" And Noctis didn't know what to make of it, other than it was bad. It was really, really bad.

"Noct! Prompto! Get outta there!" Ignis' warning seemed to come from far away.

The beast had its attention on the both of them again, assessing the new situation. It had started circling them, the canines bared with a threatening growl. His eyes on the amber, Noctis took a step closer, raising his hands in a calming gesture, "Gladio? Gladio, listen. I know you're in there. It's us. Get a grip, man." His heart slumped at the bark he received. The 'please' was mouthed.

"Uh, I don't think he's hearin' you, Noct," Prompto's pitch rose. He was clenching the gun so tightly it was almost hindering his circulation. And this time, when the beast made for another attack, he didn't hesitate. Three consecutive shots rang out, the sand by the paws bursting in small dust geysers, forcing the baffled animal to back off with an insecure snarl.

"You crazy?!" Noctis snapped at the gunner. "You could've hit Gladio!"

"I wasn't aimin' at Gladio." Prompto's tone made the prince gasp. He had never heard him speak with such loaded severity. The gunner's breaths were shaky, desperation underlining each intake. He held the gun still, steadily trained to the ground in front of the furiously stomping animal, but the glistening eyes and the way his shoulders shook betrayed the maelstrom of emotions behind the hammer. "Not… yet."

Noctis didn't like the implications behind that. "Dammit, Prompto…!"

"What?! Look at this, Noct!" the man exasperated.

And he did, and his heart seemed to stop at that. The beast was pacing back and forth irritably as if Prompto's line of bullets had formed an invisible barrier the fiend was now frivolously trying get around. The gleaming orbs watched the gunner like a hawk.

"Does… does this look like Gladdy to you?" the broken voice broke his reverie. Colored by what sounded like barely held-back tears, Prompto's voice was strained. The hand holding the gun trembled.

And that's when Prompto made a mistake.

He averted his eyes from his target only for long enough to glance at Noctis, perhaps in order to say something to him; the wolf disappeared from his field of vision for a couple of seconds. "What do you think we should…" was all he managed before the prince's panic-struck, paling face stole the words from his tongue. He knew what it was even before the blue eyes snapped back to take in the leaping form, the dark shadow coming straight at him. He knew instantly that it was too late to dodge it, too. His gasp was loud and shuddery as reflex squeezed his eyes shut, and he braced himself for the pain.

There was a loud slam and a low grunt, but the pain never came. Confused, Prompto blinked his eyes open, still seeing just the coal color, but this one had a different shade. "Noct…?"

Noctis' teeth grit under the massive weight ramming against the shield that separated them from the canines. He tried to not let his heart quiver at the roar bellowing from the other side of their flimsy line of defense; he was running out of time, fast. "Dammit, Gladio," he muttered to himself, "snap outta it already…" It was all he could do to not have his shoulder popped out of its socket as the beast tore the shield away from his hand.

"Noct-!"

They heard the squelching sound for a split second before it was drowned under another roar, and Ignis jerked his spear off the beast's hind leg before skidding back. "Watch yourselves!"

"Ignis, wha-?!" Noctis started, but Ignis motioned for him to be quiet,

"I didn't hit a vital. Hurry!" He spared a glance at the two men scampering back onto their feet. Ignis' brow furrowed as he debated voicing his thoughts. His voice dripping sorrow, the strategist spoke lowly, "I'm afraid we must assume that Gladio is no longer with us."

The foundations of Noctis' life fell apart at those words. "Sa- say what? Ignis, you can't be serious…" He was silenced by the look the adviser gave him. Etched with moisture, the emeralds held pure, unfiltered despair.

"Please, Your Highness," Ignis started, pain audible in each hard-earned syllable as the man fought to keep his voice under control, "for once in your life, would you please just do as you're told."

A flare of rage coursed through his veins at the implication. "No. No! Screw that, Ignis! I'm not going anywhere!" Not five yards from him, the beast let out an enraged roar. The pain from the stab wound as well as the rising hunger were driving it over the edge, fast. "I'm not leaving him!"

"Noct!" Ignis hissed, a broken, desolate sound he had to force out. "That… that's not Gladio anymore!"

"'The hell are you sayin'?! Of course he is! I-"

"Look out!"

Noctis disappeared into a cloud of light as the bestial body crushed the spot he had stood in. Decrystallizing mere feet from the creature, the intense blue was drawn by the blazing amber. The beautiful, mesmerizing eyes of copper and sunflowers were clouded, as if they were looking at nothing. And Noctis' gasp was almost inaudible as whiteness cleared its way into the solid color, the sharper shape of defined irises being drawn onto the retinae. The softly uttered 'Gladio' was almost disbelieving. Noctis didn't dare let himself feel joy. He didn't dare allow himself to hope, not yet. But...

The blue eyes drifted upwards from the slowly elucidating pair, only to be in turn washed over with desperation at the sight of the poised daggers hovering above the dark form.

The strike descended in par with the panicked words leaving his throat, "No! Ignis, wait-!"

All they saw was a splash of red as warm blood stained the ground.

* * *

Gladiolus had milliseconds to raise the blade before the shattering force slammed against his defences again. The creature let out a cackling howl of a laughter as he leaped back and out of the counter swing's reach.

"That's right, human. Hurt me. Impress me. Make me submit," Fenrir boasted with glee, spreading his arms almost invitingly before, without a warning, he launched again, grappling onto the dull side of Gladiolus' blade and pushing it out of the way with ease. A shattering knee was driven into his gut, blood spurting out of the man's quivering mouth as his world was washed white with the blinding pain. As his knees gave out and the ground rushed at him again, Gladiolus heard a whispered, "If you can, that is."

Crumbling to the ground, the shield was left spurting and gasping, lines of blood and saliva trailing from his mouth. The presence stepped away from him, and he heard how the man started circling him, a predator closing in on its prey before the kill.

"Now, do you understand your folly, mortal?" he spoke almost casually. "Have you learned your place under my will?"

Unable to reply, even if he would have wanted to, Gladiolus simply grunted and shook his head with determination. Each breath hard-earned and stinging as it moved his abused diaphragm, the man grit his teeth hard as he willed the strength back into his limbs. "Keep dreamin'." Spitting some blood out as he got up shakily, he fixed the demon with a hard glare. "I'm… I'm not… doin' this for me." Bringing his blade up to the next strike, Gladiolus let out a soft grunt of satisfaction at the notion of contact and the yelp of rage rather than pain. Fresh blood joined his on the darkening tarmac. "Don't take me as one of the lot you've done away with in the past."

Fenrir leaped backwards, and slowly raised a hand to try the wound on his upper left arm; a low growl rumbled deep in his throat, and the demigod's snarl grew poisonous.

Not allowing the beast the time to recover, he lunged forward. Letting out a battle cry, he swung the giant blade in a wide, horizontal arc.

It had been a flawless slash. Balanced in both velocity and angle. That's why, when the weight of the beastly spirit landing onto the flat edge of the sword reached his shoulder, for a moment, the shield did want to give up. As the ambers widened for the fraction of a second – long enough to take in the satanic smirk on the other's face – before the kick landed, Gladiolus wanted for it all just to be over.

It sent him flying for several yards; slamming against a wall, air was knocked out of him again as his vision swam. Teetering at the edges of consciousness, the inviting darkness teasing him with the blessing of the oblivion, he questioned briefly if it was even possible to survive something like that. But as the steps approached him, ominous and purposeful, it was all he could do to just claw for breath as his sword was kicked away, the weapon flickering a little before it disappeared in a glimmer of blue. Relentless fingers closed around his throat.

Hoisting the limp man up with ease, Fenrir slammed his head against the concrete a couple times, drawing out a strangled whine. The hands trying to pry the deadly limb away lacked the strength. "Hmph. Only a human," the man huffed, and was it just the buzzing in the bodyguard's mind, or was there a hint of disappointment in the voice?

His train of thought derailed into a brick wall at a brutal flare of agony tearing across his left side. His scream was choked and wheezy, the sound dying around the deadly fingers closed over his trachea. Gritting his teeth against the pain, his breaths came in agonized, rapid, shallow pants, and after a moment that felt like an era, Gladiolus peeked down.

The blood stained what he saw of the hand. Giving another firm jerk, the wolf man dragged out another interrupted cry from the man before pulling the claws out in one fluid motion, a desperately needed gasp again torn from the shield as droplets of his blood splattered the ground.

"Hurts, doesn't it?"

Gasping for air, dark haze veiled in and out of Gladiolus' vision. His lips moved with the unvoiced words, eyelids lowered precariously; his side was on fire, the nauseating pain coursing through his veins burning his core.

And as the fingers begun to squeeze his windpipe, from all around him he begun to hear the sounds of collapsing. The amber eyes cracking open what little they managed, Gladiolus saw how Insomnia crumbled, buildings coming down, the ground melting into darkness as stars rained down from the sky.

"It is over," the low voice growled, the beast's nature now coming through in the dark voice. "Your will is shattering. Let it. Your body is already gone, too. Embrace it. Accept me, and it'll be over. Think about it; you could be free of this wretched pain." Leaning in close to the writhing man, a desperate gasp sounding from him as the fingers tightened a little further, the wolf murmured into his ear, hungrily, seductively, "Succumb."

Teeth gritting, his eyes squeezing shut again, Gladiolus' breaths were strangled hisses. The 'no' came out merely as an undertone. Then, as a hiss. And again, as a pain-rimmed grunt.

The world seemed to fall still. Falling debris was suspended in mid-air, everything ceasing, the shallow pants the only noise in the eerie silence. The amber eyes were crescent moons, blazing with unyielding determination as they glared. Glared murder at the corresponding pair of the ethereal; the grasp around his throat loosened a little.

Fenrir's victorious face twisted into that of irritation. "Why?!" he snarled. "Why do you still insist on defying me?! Why do you desire strength so much?!"

There was a gagging sound laced with surprise; a cough, and warm droplets rained onto the shield's bare chest. Disbelieving eyes, shifting back into their original sunflower, were lowered onto the greatsword, impaled hilt-deep through the beast man's gut. A questioning grunt, and the golden eyes met the amber again. "Y-you…!"

Two things happened at the same time: as Gladiolus went to gather what was left of his strength, the restraining limb disappeared as the wolf tore himself free and staggered backwards. Collapsing into a pile, the shield drew air into his abused lungs in voracious gasps, the shapes dancing on his retinae as he fought the dizziness and nausea.

Fenrir drew back with an incredulous moan of pain; a clawed hand was clasped over the bleeding. The smoldering eyes snapped back at the shield at the sound of shifting, and a roar of rage rumbled in his throat as he watched, disbelieving, how the man struggled to stand up. "Y-you…! How…? Why are you… still… ri-sing?" he hissed, leaning against the wall for support.

"I… told you," Gladiolus' face was downcast, the look behind the raspy voice obscured from the view. "I'm not… doin' this… for me." The heavy sword scraped the asphalt as the man took step after waddling step closer, the fist clenching around the familiar hilt. " I said I… have things to take care of. So… so go to hell… flea bag."

"W-wait…!"

His muscles screaming with the exertion, Gladiolus raised the behemoth blade one more time, and arms giving out under the combined stress and weight, brought it down across the wolf man's unprotected back.

The gasp was nigh inaudible. As the blade collided onto the ground and the shield sunk into a panting, heaving mess, Fenrir slid down against the wall, a streak of blood staining the once pristine brick. Quiet, quiet pants left the man as his body went slack, and the last thing Gladiolus saw before his mind drifted into darkness was a satisfied smirk spreading over the thin lips. With an amused snort, the man muttered, "Hnh. Not bad, human…"


	12. Forgive Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN1: *turns up the music* Goshes, I've been playing these wolf songs for weeks over writing this, currently obsessed with "Familiar Hell" by Battle Beast. Let the guitar sing, baby!
> 
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN, GUYS! This is my gift - to you. So, Spellbound - click-click, check, done. Once more, thank you for reading and leaving comments. Also, a special thank you to Elillierose for your constructive suggestions (many of which were direly needed!) and beta reading throughout. ^^
> 
> Please check out also the notes after the story. I kinda have something I want to talk about in detail. Now, enjoy! <3

Ignis Scientia had always been a man of precision and taking into consideration. Ever since he started his training for his duty as the boy prince's advisor, he had always held exactness as his highest value, the goal to strive for. Nothing short of that would do; there was no room for error in his ethics.

He had come to stray far from that path as he now stared wide-eyed and thoroughly horrified by how Noctis' teeth grit under the onslaught of agony, how his lips spread into a snarl to help ride it out. There was a choked-up, wheezing sound forcing itself out of his throat. The intense blues squeezed shut for a moment until they cracked open again, glaring wild fire into his own emeralds. He felt the tremors on the wrist Noctis was clenching; he couldn't discern whose they were. He couldn't discern anything. All he saw was crimson, the disturbing color spreading over the prince's arm. "N… Noct?" was a mere whisper, shaky and disbelieving.

The dagger had pierced through. Punctured the bicep, the tip stuck out almost an inch; Ignis didn't dare think how deep the wide end was buried – into the left arm of the sole purpose of his existence.

Moving like lightning, Noctis had flashed before him as, he was certain, his strike had already been traveling towards the beast. It was over, Ignis knew that. If this was it, then – that Gladio was gone; that this abomination was what was left of him now – then there should have been no point to delay the inevitable. But... he hadn't wanted that. The idea, the very notion had made him sick to his stomach. It was like someone was tearing him apart at the seams. But, the mere idea of letting the beast – not Gladio! – hurt anyone had seemed even more atrocious still. He was certain the shield wouldn't have wanted that, either. So that's why he had… Ignis gave himself a mental slap. Just thinking about it made the familiar acid rise onto his tongue. He would have done it. Hell, he was in the middle of doing it, before Noct…

Oh, Noct…!

Another indistinguishable moan of pain slipped from the boy prince, but instead of trying to back off, Noctis pushed against him with more force. "Wa-wait… Ignis. Look at 'em," he forced out, the usually deep voice now pitched with pain. The grip on his wrist tightened, and now Ignis was certain whom the tremors he felt belonged to. "Look…"

He did. As the emeralds slowly trailed back to the dark form slumped in the ground behind the younger man, Ignis' breath caught into his clenching throat as he understood. How Noct had known, it didn't matter at the moment. All that did was that Ignis had made the greatest mistake of his life, and, had it not been for Noct, would have done so much worse yet. Only after the third heartbeat, Ignis finally let the offending weapons return to the aether, drawing another tortured sound from the raven as the blade left his flesh.

The beast made unintelligent yelping noises as it shivered in the dirt, the head swishing around every once in a while. But, what hit the brunet like brass knuckles being rammed into his gut were the features of a man, the skin gradually coming to view as the hairline rose higher up his cheeks, the fur receding from his face, his arms.

"He's… not gone," Noctis grunted, followed by a sharp hiss as his right hand clasped over the bleeding. "He's not…" His strength ran out, legs gave out, and with a quiet thud, he fell onto his knees, pressing the wound near hysterically.

It seemed to snap the others out of it, too. "Noct!" Ignis was by his side in half a second, a hand on the young man's shoulder to keep him steady while the other was laid onto the prince's own, to gently pry it away so that he could take a look. Glancing up, Noctis slowly let go, and Ignis saw the depth of his treason.

It didn't take a genius to tell it had been a close call. It was difficult to see it clearly through all the bleeding, but Ignis could tell that he had been mere inches from severing the nerve. Had that happened, he wasn't sure if even a Hi-potion could have fixed that quite as well as he would have liked. Not to mention, they hadn't come across one in weeks. A subconscious gulp trailed down his throat as his unnerved gaze scanned the wound over, but his mind was failing him. That usually brilliant, whip-like intelligence was now swept away from him; even the most basic knowledge, basic procedures, even the notion of laying the man down lied somewhere out of his reach as Ignis stared at the bleeding, dumb-struck and stupefied and so damn guilty!

"Noct?!" It was the gunner's voice that broke the spell. His attention snapping to the worry written all over the blond's features, then back to the silently snarling raven, Ignis seemed to come back.

"Prompto! Take care of Gladio," he tossed at Prompto as he went to guide Noctis to lie on his back.

"Gladio…" Prompto's voice hadn't quite been a question, but not far from it. The sky pools drifted over to the writhing form, wary to say the least, perhaps hopeful if one were to be an optimist.

Gladiolus was on his hands and knees on the ground, his head hung and back arched as high as it would go. Irregular series of grunts and slight gags fell from him in ribbons; his eyes were squeezed shut in pain and his fingers were digging into the muddied ground. But slowly, the last of the darkness fell from his person as his legs returned to their normal length, lips came down to conceal the teeth as his agony dulled into throbbing and burning. Eventually, his back relaxed enough for him to drop to sit on his knees, head still hung between his arms, his shoulders rising under heavy pants.

But it was Gladio. It was the man, looking safe and sound if not for the tension present in every fiber of his body. Warmth fluttered in the gunner's chest as he hurried to sit next to him. "Gladdy? … You OK, man?" he asked hesitantly. The man didn't reply immediately, but after a few more exhales, there were nods, first precarious, then firmer.

"Y… Yeah." It was breathless and it was raspy, but it was unmistakably Gladio. Prompto's face lit up.

"You're back… guys!" the gunner's voice faded from his ears as the man turned to call over his shoulder.

"Ugh… 'the hell happened?" he rubbed his eyes, trying to coax them to stop stinging. "'Feel like I've been through a tumble drye'… not a joy ride."

"You- you're back! Is it, is it gone? What happened?"

A dark smirk rose over the man's lips for a second. "Tsk… yeah. Yeah, I… I fought 'em. Must've been an illusion or somethin', we were in Insomnia…" His voice trailed away as something registered. "Hey. Where're the others?"

Looking taken-aback, Prompto simply glanced over his shoulder. Had he meant to do that or not didn't matter as the amber gaze followed his, and Gladio was already pushing himself onto his feet. "Uhm, maybe you shouldn't yet… you're still a little–"

"I'm fine," the shield interrupted as he forced himself to stand on shaky legs and went to step closer. "'The hell happened here?!" he demanded as well as he could while standing a bit precariously over the pain-ridden prince and Ignis. The adviser was now pressing something that looked like the missing sleeve of his dress shirt onto the wound, but the taxing voice next to them forced him to look up, and Ignis was sure his heart skipped a beat.

Gladio was back. He was back, conscious and in control, and seemingly unharmed if one didn't count the severe reddening around his wrists. One glance, though, and Ignis deemed them good enough for the man to put up with for a little while. And as the emerald met the amber, the adviser knew that some chafes on himself were the last thing on the man's mind at the moment. The stern look in them was rigorous; it screamed 'explain!'

If only Ignis knew how. A small exhale left him. Tasting the words on his tongue, nothing feeling quite right, the man resulted to trust Gladio to understand. Delivering it in one desperate, lost, apologetic look, Ignis said it all: 'Thank the Six you're alright.' 'I'm so sorry.' 'I misjudged.' 'It was Noct who saved you.' 'Can you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?'

Reading something in those eyes, the softness in them so unlike the man, Gladiolus prodded gently, "What happened?"

"Gladio…" All three pairs of eyes were drawn down to the origin of the voice. The expression the royal made was an odd cross of relief and ache, but his eyes shone with such elation it would have been able to light up the entire valley.

The said man's lip tugged up a little. "Heh. Yeah. Kept you waitin'." Then he grew more serious again, "What did that?" The tone was asking, 'Was it me?' Ignis' face darkened in anticipation, but Noctis didn't even glance at the brunet as he made a dismissing gesture on his uninjured hand before trying to push himself up, only to come to regret his decision a second later at a new wave of stinging rushing up and down his arm.

"Agh… remind me not to spar with this for a while," he chuckled darkly as he laid himself back down, conveniently missing the round of uncomfortable furrowing of eyebrows as what he didn't say sunk. "Hey, we… don't happen to have any more potions left?" he asked, starting to sound a little woozy from the blood loss. It had been more than he would have preferred over the past two days. "Do we?"

"I, uh, I think there's one more in my bag," Prompto glanced at the direction of their tent. "Just a regular Potion, though," but he was already moving to get it. Figured it wouldn't hurt. Nodding to his distancing back. Ignis' attention returned to his ward.

"How bad is the pain?"

"I'll live," he half-gasped.

"Don' push it," Gladio sat down next to him to gaze down at the young man. He did his best to ignore the sting and the strain in his own limbs, but Gladiolus couldn't help the persistent nagging in the back of his head. He still hadn't received an answer. "So. What happened?"

"I–," Noctis started, but was interrupted by the tight voice,

"I'm afraid I must admit this to be my fault," Ignis spoke to the wound, not quite able to meet the gaze just yet. And, for good reason, the shield's eyes narrowed in obvious displeasure.

"How many times must I ask this? Just tell me."

Before he could start, Prompto was back. Without a word, he practically thrusted the vial into the raven's hand, who took it with a small grin of gratitude. There was the familiar shattering sound, and Noctis was again engulfed by the gentle glow. The light particles danced around him before seemingly seeping under Ignis' fingers to tend the wound, and the men visibly relaxed as the prince's eyes slid shut with a sigh of contentment. The last of the healing shimmer faded after a long moment, and Ignis sat back, tossing the ruined piece of garment behind him. All of them gazed at the restful expression on the royal's face before Gladiolus again turned to look at the adviser, his face urging him to get on with it.

Ignis chose his words carefully before speaking, "I'm afraid that this was because of my misjudgment." He had to pause there. The next words, he needed to say them, he knew, but it didn't make them any less of a blasphemy. "As it seemed like the beast had… gone berserk, I tried to do what needed to be done to… to stop it. But, I'm afraid that Noctis interrupted me, and the result is what you see."

Gladiolus' mouth had hung agape as the adviser spoke. He didn't know what he had expected to hear, but hearing Ignis straight out admit that he had just, yeah, _tried to kill him_ … well, it was a shock, to say the least. Still, he knew there must have been a reason for the man to arrive to that conclusion, to deem that necessary, and a small sting of worry flared inside him at the what-if. No way would Ignis decide something like that unless it was a dire emergency. And yet, Noctis had... stopped it. Saved him, practically, if he was reading this right. And it was obvious that Ignis was now torn between the question of which one of his sins was the greater one. One word in particular had conveyed his guilt more than everything the firestarter had said combined. Ignis had used his real name. Noctis. Ignis never used 'Noctis'. It was Noct, always and forever Noct. The 'is' made it sound distant, so formal, like the man was either very upset, or very, very much afraid. And this time, Gladiolus didn't think it was the former.

"It's not like that," Noctis huffed, "I–"

"Noct," the adviser cast him a solemn look. "That's exactly what happened. No matter how we look at this, it still stands that had I not instigated what I did, this wouldn't have happened. And for that, I… I am truly sorry," he bowed his head a little in embarrassment, suddenly unable to meet the young gaze. He had disappointed him so badly, broken something sacred that shouldn't ever be even approached like this. He didn't have the right to ask for forgiveness! Even if he knew he were to receive it, Ignis felt like he didn't deserve it.

"Quit your whining…"

Ignis blinked at the tone before rising his head to look at the youth again. Noctis grunted through grit teeth as he pushed himself to sit, the wound now completely gone, the only reminder of the incident being the blood all over the arm and his tattered shirt.

"Wanna mope about that?" he huffed as he tested the arm. "Then mope, but do it on your own time, will ya? It doesn't suit you," he finished with a cheeky smirk Ignis didn't know how to respond to. He sighed,

"Noct, despite–"

"Shut up." Ignis did. His jaw almost made a snapping sound. "It's not like any of us meant for this to happen, right? So, no hard feelings. Look, I'm just glad it's over!" Then, as if remembering something, he turned to his shield, "It _is_ over, right?"

"Heh, yeah," he snorted with a smirk. "It's over."

"So, you, what, 'impressed' it or something?" the prince returned the snort, making sure to add an implication to that.

The man let out a hefty laugh. "Dunno whatcha mean, but it ain't comin' back again. It's, it's gone. I can't feel it anymore, not like I used to. It's gone." Noctis' eyes lit up and he flashed him a relieved look before nodding.

The 'I feared I'd lost you too' was barely above a whisper, but Gladiolus heard it. The dark brows shot up at the look of consolation, alleviation, love in those cosmic orbs. The amber in his own eyes shining warmly, Gladiolus' lips tugged up into an honest smile of absolution and reassurance.

"It's over now." 'Don't worry, Noct. You'll never have to fear losing me again.' Then, the attempt to get up was what prompted a revelation, "Want some help?" Noctis simply shook his head as he forced his legs back under him and only swayed a little as he got up.

"Dude, you OK?" Prompto offered him a casual high-five, which the prince accepted lazily.

"Y-yeah. Just stings a little, is all." The young men chatted lightly as they stepped past the two, heading for the tent, Prompto throwing something about a new shirt, which made the prince cringe. Gladiolus shook his head at their antics.

Ignis, however, remained kneeling for a moment longer. His eyes never leaving the ground, he gradually got up and dusted himself almost meticulously, but every ounce of his being screamed discontent. Rolling his eyes at the unusual theatrics, Gladiolus raised an eyebrow, "So, what eatin' at you?"

The strategist took his time. When he finally looked at him, Gladiolus saw the silent disarray his friend was in. His eyes a whirlwind of regret, guilt and self-scolding, Ignis was quick to avert his gaze again. He never answered. The older man sighed, "Look. I know you did what you did because you felt like you had to." That did it; the emeralds turned back to meet him. "I'm not blamin' you if that's what you think, and I don't think Noct is, either." He held a pause, checking if the man would take his words. He didn't. "What… what was it like?"

At that, Ignis' gaze dropped again. He took a moment. "You… changed. I didn't believe that was possible, to be honest," he let out a small, humorless laughter, and the dark brow rose higher. "You… or it, I guess. Speaking of 'it' would be more appropriate. At first it seemed confused, but after a while it grew lucid and aggressive, and that was the point when…"

"When you thought it was too late," the shield supplied for him, his tone softening with the understanding. The adviser simply nodded. "Did I… hurt anyone?"

The man debated his answer before nodding a little, "You tried to." He could hear the man's gulp, the color draining from Gladiolus' face a little.

"I see…" was all he said. He didn't need to say more, the pain behind those small words told Ignis enough. "Well, I can see why you'd do that then."

"I was too rash on my conclusion," he almost spat at himself. "I should have had more faith! And because of that…!"

"Hey! Quit it. Shit happened, alright, but blaming yourself isn't gonna undo that," the shield's arms rose over his chest, and he fixed the brunet with a tight look. "You think it's great hearin' I tried to attack you guys, either? I don' want any bad blood between us from this, so if you wanna talk about it, let's talk, but only if it's gonna be something else that's gonna come out of your mouth besides your bitchin'."

The face the adviser made spelled out 'incredulous'. Looking like a deer in headlights, Ignis could just stare at the man. "So how 'bout it, Iggy? You think you can put it past you?" there was a smile behind that voice, one that reached his eyes. He extended his hand for the other, "I'd hate to see you beatin' yourself over something people aren't blamin' you for."

Ignis' head was buzzing. His gaze sliding from the amber to the offered hand, all that went through his head was just static. He couldn't comprehend how they seemed to be so willing to excuse his inexcusable blunder with nothing but a joke of an apology to wrap it up with. But they did. For the life of him, Ignis couldn't discern dishonesty or grudge in their demeanor as they offered him their acceptance, their forgiveness. And unjust as it may have been – the gravity of his error being what it was – Ignis wasn't going to refuse it. Feeling like a drowning man reaching out for drift wood, Ignis grabbed the hand firmly and they shook, the warmth radiating from the shield's eyes slowly melting down the ice around his self-loathe, and Ignis' heart leaped as the man nodded for him to join him. A small smile rose onto the adviser's lips as they headed for the tent, too. He would need to process this some more, that was for sure. But if they didn't hold it against him, well, Ignis didn't think he would need to hold onto it after that, either.

Prompto was sitting out, poking the fire languidly as the two sat down. Noctis got out of the tent, having changed and a heap of something that looked like his stained shirt in his hand. Without a word, he walked by the fire and cast it into the embers, sending a cloud of burning flecks in the air like a flight of fireflies. A trail of smoke rose from the dark cloth before the first corner caught fire, the reflection of the growing flames dancing on their cheeks. His arms crossed over his chest, Noctis stood silently and watched the burning like the fire was wiping out a painful memory. The men were hypnotized by the way the entire bundle eventually just burst with the blaze as the cloth reached its peak, the mild stench of burning rubber and leather rising in the air. They sat watching it, no-one said a word, until the smooth voice of the prince spoke lowly,

"I don't wanna spend another minute in this place." Glancing up at his retinue, he read the quiet question on their faces. "Let's go. Let's pack everything and get outta here."

They had never taken down the camp faster. Had it been under different circumstances, Gladiolus would have been proud of them. Now he just wanted to aid what he could to get it all wrapped up and stuffed into the trunk of the Regalia like it was going out of fashion. And as the tires of the car slid a little on the uphill gravel as Ignis sped up, Gladiolus didn't look back, and didn't think any of the others did, either.

As the tail lights of the car climbed up the curvy hillside road, two figures emerged from the shadows to gaze over the landscape. Kimya's dark eyes held mirth as she watched the hurriedly distancing vehicle. She chuckled quietly to herself as she ran her hand gently down the back furs of the creature posing next to her. 'To think that a mortal man is to best you, my friend… To lose your touch, you aren't about, my dear?' the woman's amused voice asked in the other's mind. Fenrir's gruff, growling snort echoed in her head hollowly.

'The human has potential. But, you knew that, didn't you? You wouldn't have bonded me for naught.'

The woman's hand rose to pet the shadowy head, and the wolf snuggled itself against the touch, a pleased sound rolling in its throat. 'That, truly, I would have not. Yet to realize his power, that man still is. Has it in him, he does, that power he so seeks. If only his weaknesses, would he learn to acknowledge. He has them, like us all. But if embrace them, he should, then the courage to see his path to its end, from within himself he's bound to find.'

The wolf let out a low bark. 'You seem to have a lot of faith in him, to actually risk it. What is that youngling to you?'

Kimya's smile drained from the age-worn face and she lowered her eyes, before raising them again, to look at the star-lit sky above. "Seen, I have, the destinies laid upon the shoulders of those boys," she spoke with her lips now. "To have children fight the wars of men… greatly, it saddens me to see the joy fade from their faces. But when that time arrives, ready for that, they all need to be." She fell silent again, but again the wolf heard her thoughts in their shared mind, asking, 'Inside his heart, you've seen, my dear. Tell me, friend, is he to conquer his fears when he needs to be able to?'

The wolf pawed the ground a few times, then rose its head again and stood proudly, majestically. 'The child has dedicated himself to something that matters to him more than his own life. He'll prevail.'

'Is that so? Thank you, friend. You've done well. Now, go, you may.'

The wolf stomped the ground eagerly for a second, then it threw its head back to let out a heartfelt, drawn-out howl. By the time the echo of it had faded, the wolf was gone.

Several miles away, on the back seat of the Regalia, the hairs in the back of Gladiolus' neck rose as a cold shiver ran down his spine.

. .

THE END

* * *

**AN2: So, there. Haha, I really am out for Noct's blood in this, aren't I? :D To be honest, this ending turned out a bit different than I had thought. I had planned on leaving them in really high spirits, but then that Ignis angst ride sorta happened and well, this is the result, haha.**

**Also, one thing I wanted to talk about is that wrapping up scene with Kimya and Fenrir. It might be confusing if someone doesn't know what a familiar is. A witch's familiar is their spiritual companion; they can be guides, friends and servants, and often take a physical form at least occassionally. So what Kimya did is, she bonded Gladio with her own familiar. If you remember that tuft of fur she used for her ritual... :) All in all, I actually made her quite powerful in this story, being capable of more than she's letting out. She's lying through her teeth when she says she wouldn't read the futures of people; she has that kind of talent. Also, by having acquired (earned the respect of) a familiar as powerful as Fenrir, she's no push-over. I mean you've seen what Gladio had to go through! Haha, I understand that I've made her a rather dislikable character, but I hope no-one is setting up modern days witch fires for her. xD She had good intentions.**

**Anyway. I digress. I hope you liked it. I hope you'll like my other writing, too. I've got lots planned, so glad to be able to get to that stuff some time reasonably soon. Like, I'm done with witchcraft; now it's time for my other awe-inspire: pirates! Yarr, mateys!  
**

**Cheers, guys!**


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